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Updated: June 20, 2025
And who should be sitting in the porchway, and looking into the bottom of a pint pot, but Abe Cummins! "Why, however on earth did you come here?" asked Billy. "Cap'en landed us between four and five this morning," said Abe. "Well," said Billy, "I'm right glad to meet you, anyway, for tell 'ee the truth you're the very man I was looking for." "Really?" says Abe, like one interested.
As Seth Minards thrust his way out of the insufferably stuffy room, in the porchway he felt a hand laid on his shoulder; and, turning about, recognised Nicky-Nan by the dim starlight. "God bless 'ee, my son!" said Nicky heartily, to his utter surprise. "I can't stay to talk now, havin' to force my way in an' catch Dr Mant.
Nicky-Nan seated himself on the bench in the porchway and did on his boots. The light was very dim here, and his fingers trembled, so that he took a long time threading the laces through the eyelet-holes. He became aware that his nerves were shaken. At the best of times, with his hurt leg, he found this operation of lacing his boots one of the worst of the day's jobs.
The noise had attracted a group of women to the porchway; among them, Mrs Climoe "good at the war-cry," as Homer says of Diomede. They huddled forward, obscuring the light. Mrs Polsue, feeling the wall firm against her back, collected her dignity. "I wish all respectable people here," she appealed to Dr Mant, as he came hurrying up the passage, "to take note of this woman's language."
The very porchway that leads into the house is hung with petrified stag- horns, doubtless dug up in Scottish bogs, and illustrating a page of the natural history of the country in some pre-historic century. The halls are panelled with Scotland, with carvings in oak from the old palace of Dunfermline. Coats of arms of the celebrated Border chieftains are arrayed in line around the walls.
"So many thanks for the tickets and I'll tell Bert about the hospital to-night!" But when the car was gone she went slowly back. She eyed the cool porchway sombrely, the opened casement windows, the blazing geraniums in their boxes. Pauline was hanging checked glass towels on the line, Nancy caught a glimpse of her big bare arms, over the brick wall that shielded the kitchen yard.
"Is it the ices?" he asked. But I ran up the porchway, eager to get to grips with Trewlove. On the threshold a young and extremely elegant footman confronted me. "Where is Trewlove?" I demanded. The footman was glorious in a tasselled coat and knee-breeches, both of bright blue. He wore his hair in powder, and eyed me with suspicion if not with absolute disfavour. "Where is Trewlove?"
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