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Updated: July 11, 2025
Strange to say I did not writhe nor snarl with disappointment and rage. I took the news with a sang froid that almost killed poor Poopendyke. He never quite got over it. Nor was I especially disturbed or irritated by the telegram of condolence I received on board ship from Tarnowsy himself. He could not resist the temptation to gloat.
Poopendyke clutched me by the arm and drew me toward the door, or I might have stood there transfixed for heaven knows how long. "She's asleep," he whispered. It was the second time in twelve hours that some one had intimated that I was blind. The door creaked villainously.
I insist on knowing who that woman is, why she is here in my hou my castle, and everything, do you understand?" Apparently they didn't understand, for they looked at me with all the stupidity they could command. "You try, Mr. Poopendyke," I said, giving it up in despair. He sought to improve on my German, but I think he made it worse. They positively refused to be intelligent.
"But, of course, as you say, if they can get any pleasure out of it, why should we object? It's a difficult matter keeping a cook any way." "Well, we are bosom friends once more, are we not? I am so relieved." "I suppose Poopendyke told you the the gossip?" "Oh, no! I had it from my maid. She is perfectly terrible. All French maids are, Mr. Smart. Beware of French maids!
He said three or four, but Britton is firm in his belief that there was nearer a dozen, judging by the weight. He also contrived to have Mr. Poopendyke purchase first-class railway tickets for him and the baron, and then forgot to settle for them. It amounted to something like four hundred and fifty kronen, if I remember correctly.
Riley-Werkheimer had dropped in the excitement, and he informed Mr. Poopendyke that the whole party was leaving at four for Dresden. I asked particular about the young man, sir, and he said they had the doctor in to treat his stomach, sir, immediately after they got back to the hotel." "His stomach? But I distinctly struck him on the verso."
Confound it all, she was such a slim, helpless little thing and all alone against a mob of burly ruffians! I could have kicked myself, but even that would have been an aimless enterprise in view of the fact that Poopendyke or any of the others could have done it more accurately than I and perhaps with greater respect.
But once during the five or ten minutes of passage did I utter a word, and that word, while wholly involuntary and by no means addressed to my oarsmen, had the remarkable effect of making them row like fury for the remainder of the distance. Mr. Poopendyke was waiting for me in the courtyard.
He began rummaging in the huge clothespress, all the while regaling me with news from the regions below. "Mr. Poopendyke has gone up to his room, sir, with his typewriter. The young lady insisted on having it. She squealed with joy at seeing an antique typewriter and he he had to run away with it, 'pon my soul he did, sir." I couldn't help laughing. "And your golf clubs, Mr. Smart.
We shan't feel like stopping for a lot of silly letters By the way, sir, when do you expect to start on the romance?" He usually spoke of them as romances. They were not novels to Poopendyke. I came to my feet, the light of adventure in my eye. "This very instant, Poopendyke," I exclaimed. His face brightened. He loves work. "Splendid! I will have your writing tablets ready in "
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