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Updated: May 21, 2025
And of course after the ink was upset he had to help Anthea to clean out her desk, and he promised to make her another secret drawer, better than the other. And she said, 'Well, make it now. So it was post-time and his letter wasn't done. And the secret drawer wasn't done either.
Packletide quickly. "How you shot the goat and frightened the tiger to death," said Miss Mebbin, with her disagreeably pleasant laugh. "No one would believe it," said Mrs. Packletide, her face changing colour as rapidly as though it were going through a book of patterns before post-time. "Loona Bimberton would," said Miss Mebbin. Mrs.
"When you took her into the back drawing-room?" The slightest possible flicker passed through Gertrude's drooped eyelids. "She was telling me a lot about her home-life poor oppressed thing!" Delia asked no more. But she felt a vague discomfort. Presently Gertrude put down her letter, and turned towards her. "May I have that cheque, dear before post-time? If you really meant it?" "Certainly."
Cyril wrote a long letter, very fast, and then went to set a trap for slugs that he had read about in the Home-made Gardener, and when it was post-time the letter could not be found, and it was never found. Perhaps the slugs ate it. Jane's letter was the only one that went.
The other day we...." Then came a flood of ink, and at the bottom these words in pencil "It was not me upset the ink, but it took such a time clearing up, so no more as it is post-time. From your loving daughter "ANTHEA." Robert's letter had not even been begun. He had been drawing a ship on the blotting paper while he was trying to think of what to say.
Joe's 'n' Cal's dough is comin' down the line, 'n' the gazabos, thinkin' it's wise money, trails. By post-time the bird's a one-to-three shot. "I've give the mount to Sweeney, 'n' like a nut I puts him hep to the bird, 'n' he tells his valet to bet a hundred fur him. The bird has on socks again, but this time they're empty, 'n' the race was a joke.
Your wife is ill; Miss Carmina is ill; you are not able to leave London and the children are pining for fresh air." In this sense, Mr. Gallilee wrote. He insisted on having the letter sent to the post immediately. "I know it's long before post-time," he explained. "But I want to compose my mind." The lawyer paused, with his glass of wine at his lips. "I say! You're not hesitating already?"
"I had only a moment left before post-time," she said, "or I should have written less abruptly. You look worn and weary, Walter. I am afraid my letter must have seriously alarmed you?" "Only at first," I replied. "My mind was quieted, Marian, by my trust in you. Was I right in attributing this sudden change of place to some threatened annoyance on the part of Count Fosco?"
Pellew was reflecting on the humorous background of Miss Dickenson's character, clear to his insight in her last speech. "But it was just post-time when we got back from the flower-show.... What then? Why, her young ladyship must have been there long enough for Mrs. Bailey to write a letter." "Is that the way you gossip at your Club, Mr. Pellew?" "Come, I say, Miss Dickenson, that's too bad!
Whatever her true motives might be, it was now perfectly plain that she was concealing them from him. "If you have any more serious reasons to give me than these," he said quietly and coldly, "let me hear them between this and post-time tomorrow. In the meanwhile, I need not detain you any longer." Madame Fontaine rose also but she was not quite defeated yet.
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