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Updated: May 4, 2025
Had it not been for his mother's advice he would assuredly have spread the amazing tale, and Mrs. Povey might have first heard of it from a stranger's gossip, which would have been too cruel upon her. "Oh!" Matthew tried to smile gaily, archly. "You're bound to hear from Cyril to-morrow." He wanted to persuade her that he was concealing merely some delightful surprise from her.
When he opened it the parlour appeared in full illumination. "Here! Go in!" said Daniel. Samuel went in, afraid. In a room as dishevelled and filthy as the bedroom, Mrs. Daniel Povey lay stretched awkwardly on a worn horse-hair sofa, her head thrown back, her face discoloured, her eyes bulging, her mouth wet and yawning: a sight horribly offensive.
"If I have a moment I shall run in to-morrow morning just to let you know I'm all right," said he, in the white street. "Oh, do!" said Constance. Constance's perfect innocence made her strangely forward at times. "A happy New Year and many of them!" "Thanks! Same to you! Don't get lost." "Straight up the Square and first on the right," called the commonsense of Mr. Povey.
Povey was assuming his coat. "Mr. Povey is going to the dentist's." "Yes, I'm going at once," Mr. Povey confirmed. "Oh! I'm so GLAD!" Constance exclaimed. Her face expressed a pure sympathy, uncomplicated by critical sentiments. Mr. Povey rapidly bathed in that sympathy, and then decided that he must show himself a man of oak and iron.
Povey, being a man of the world, behaved as if nothing had happened; but Mrs. Baines's curls protested against this unnecessary coarseness. Constance pretended not to hear. Sophia did not understandingly hear. Mr. Scales had no suspicion that he was transgressing a convention by virtue of which dogs have no sex. Further, he had no suspicion of the local fame of Mrs. Baines's mince-tarts.
He expressed his feelings by seizing the ticket and throwing it into the fire. The situation was extremely delicate. Priceless employes like Mr. Povey cannot be treated as machines, and Mrs. Baines of course instantly saw that tact was needed. "Go along to my bedroom and get ready, my pet," said she to Constance. "Sophia is there. There's a good fire. I must just speak to Maggie."
"Do you think that if it wasn't for this kid, I'd " "Oh, folks folks!" Mrs. Povey said, really concerned. "Well, I don't care!" Emeline said, panting. She crossed the floor, still panting, kissed Julia, and swept from the room. Mrs. Povey, murmuring some confused farewell, followed her. Julia climbed out of her big chair.
Povey. In those days people often depended upon the caprices of hawkers for the tastiness of their teas; but it was an adventurous age, when errant knights of commerce were numerous and enterprising. You went on to your doorstep, caught your meal as it passed, withdrew, cooked it and ate it, quite in the manner of the early Briton. Constance was obliged to join her sister on the top step.
Scales had finished writing down the details of the order with his ivory-handled stylo, and repacked his boxes, he drew the interview to a conclusion after the manner of a capable commercial traveller; that is to say, he implanted in Mr. Povey his opinion that Mr. Povey was a wise, a shrewd and an upright man, and that the world would be all the better for a few more like him. He inquired for Mrs.
Her sister, Myrtle Montague, was an ingenue in the little stock company at the Central Theatre, and Mrs. Povey kept house for her and Mr. Povey, who spent all his waking hours at the racetrack. George was furious to have this woman, whom he particularly detested, come in upon him thus informally, and find him at so great a disadvantage.
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