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Updated: May 16, 2025
I expect you're going to shake us all up and teach us improvement." "Dear me, no! I come to you for instruction. I haven't an idea in the world." "Too much modesty is a dangerous thing. Nobody's modest in Polchester." "Then I shall be Polchester's first modest man. But I'm not modest. I simply speak the truth." Mrs. Combermere smiled grimly. "There, too, you will be the exception.
He never took exercise if he could avoid it, and it was Polchester's only fault that it had so many hills. He always had breakfast in bed, read the papers there and smoked a cigarette. Every morning he had a bath as hot as he could bear it and he could bear it very hot indeed. Much of his best thinking was done there.
During these last days he had had no time to read the paper, and he had fancied, as perhaps every Polcastrian was just then fancying, that the Jubilee was a private affair for Polchester's own private benefit. He felt suddenly that Polchester was a small out-of-the- way place of no account; was there any one in the world who cared whether Polchester celebrated the Jubilee or not? Nobody....
And here was Jeremy, at this gay hour, a trolling up the High Street all by himself he lifted his head, pushed out his chest, and looked the world in the face. He might meet the Dean's Ernest at any moment. The first people whom he saw were the Misses Cragg always known, of course, as "The Cragg girls." They were, perhaps, Polchester's most constant and obvious feature.
"What we want," said Ronder, "is a good thunderstorm to clear the air." "Just what we're not likely to get," said Brandon. "It hangs on for days and days without breaking." "I wonder why that is," said Ronder; "there are no hills round about to keep it. There's hardly a hill of any size in the whole of South Glebeshire." "Of course, Polchester's in a hollow," said Brandon.
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