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Updated: July 26, 2025
This quasi apology was called forth by the fact of Lady Queenborough pushing back her chair and making for the door. It did not at all appease her to hear of the scorn of the tobacconist's daughter. She glanced sternly at Jack and disappeared. He turned to Trix and reminded her without diffidence and coram populo, as his habit was that she had promised him a stroll in the west wood.
At this climax, which must have struck upon her ear with a certain familiarity, Miss Trix Queenborough, notwithstanding the place and occasion, tossed her pretty head and whispered to me, "What horrid stuff!"
Part of it is borrowed from a Spanish Novel called the Force of Blood, written originally by Cervantes. The Mayor of Queenborough, a Comedy, acted by his Majesty's servants, 1661. For the plot see the Reign of Vartigas, by Stow and Speed. Any Thing for a Quiet Life, acted at the Globe on the Bank Side.
"They got back to the garden just as I had opened one of the windows, and shot at me from behind the hedge. If it hadn't been for the light they must have picked me off." He stopped, and standing up in the well, looked round. By this time we were again just off the entrance to Queenborough, and the thick haze that had obscured everything earlier in the evening was rapidly thinning away.
"Throw him in the river?" "It would be rather extravagant," I objected, "after we've just pulled him out." Latimer smiled. "I am not sure I don't deserve it. I have lied to you, Morrison, all through in the most disgraceful manner." Then he paused. "Still it would be extravagant," he added. "I think I can convince you of that before we get to Queenborough."
"You won't be soon, young man," Lady Queenborough's angry eye seemed to say. "I remember him," pursued Jack, "awfully smitten with a tobacconist's daughter in the Corn oh, it's all right, Lady Queenborough she wouldn't look at him." This quasi-apology was called forth by the fact of Lady Queenborough pushing back her chair and making for the door.
Now look, lads; here's a man-a-war, a heavy, sluggish thing, whose guns could take no effect on the Fire-fly, because their shot would go right over her, and only anger the waters. Her long boats, to be sure, could do the business; but she has no more than two and the captain's gig a-board as I heard this morning at Queenborough.
Queenborough: we left the castle on our right; a little farther we saw the fishing of oysters out of the sea, which are nowhere in greater plenty or perfection; witness Ortelius in his Epitome, &c. Whitstable; here we went ashore.
Ives could accept an invitation to dinner if one were proffered to him. When the ladies retired he came into the smoking-room, drank a whiskey-and-soda, said that Miss Queenborough was really a very charming companion, and apologized for leaving us early on the ground that his sermon was still unwritten.
Wentworth instead." I started. Newhaven looked at her for an instant, and then turned on his heel. She turned to me, quick as lightning and with her face all aflame, "If you tell, I'll never speak to you again," she whispered. After this there was silence for some minutes. "Well?" she said, without looking at me. "I have no remark to offer, Miss Queenborough," I returned.
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