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Updated: May 1, 2025
Men, dwarfed by the magnitude of their environment to the size of ants, and clad in jerseys and white working-rig, swarmed about the decks and batteries. "There's the Fleet Flagship," continued Thorogood, pointing. "That ship with the drifters round her, flying the Commander-in-Chief's flag. That's where Podgie was bound for. Rummy to think he'll be back in London again in a couple of days' time!"
"Do you suppose I'll have to manoeuvre with your flo-tilla?" "No, Podgie! I'm pretty sure our commander will see you sifting cinders in Tophet before you come with our flo-tilla." "Thank you! She steers rather wild at high speeds." Two men laughed together. "By the way, who is Mr. Carteret-Jones when he's at home?" I whispered. "I was with him in the Britannia.
"But supposing," said Podgie d'Auvergne to the pebbles underfoot, returning to his hurt like a sow to her wallow, "supposing I was sitting there with her on that seat and some fellow came along and insulted her!" He considered unhinging possibilities with a brow of thunder. "Damn it!" said the King's Messenger, "I couldn't even thrash the blighter."
Pyecroft, as a black and coal-stained dinghy I did not foresee how well I should come to know her was flung overside by three men. "Havin' bought an 'am, we will now see life." He stepped into the boat and was away. "I say, Podgie!" the speaker was in the last of the line of destroyers, as we thumped astern "aren't you lonely out there?" "Oh, don't rag me!" said Moorshed.
"No," he said, "I shouldn't have said so either. But I don't claim any profound insight into the feminine mind. All I know is that she looks rather pale, and she has grown uncommonly quiet. At times she has restless moods of rather forced gaiety. But the reason for it all, I'm afraid, is beyond me." "Do you remember d'Auvergne?" asked his nephew suddenly. "Podgie d'Auvergne.
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