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Updated: May 12, 2025
"Mr. and Madame Segerteribus of Segerteribus Lodge, the Mouse!" bawled the footman. The stout lady, who was Mrs. Vane Bridgeman, started and smiled. "Delighted to see you, Mr. Segerteribus!" she said to the Prophet. The Prophet hastened to explain through the uproar of twenty guitars. "Mr. Vivian is my name. I think Miss Minerva Partridge " Mrs. Bridgeman started and smiled.
Segerteribus, you really " "Biggle!" reiterated the little clergyman, excitedly. "Biggle! Biggle!" "What does he " began Mrs. Bridgeman, turning helplessly towards the Prophet. "It's his name, I fancy," whispered the Prophet. Mrs. Bridgeman started and smiled. "Mr. Biggle," she said. The little clergyman moved on towards the guitars with all the air of a future colonial bishop. Mrs.
Bridgeman, turning ecstatically to the person nearest to her, who happened to be the saturnine little clergyman. "Isn't she marvellous, Mr. er Mr. Segerteribus?" "Biggle!" cried the little clergyman. "I beg your pardon?" "Biggle!" vociferated the little clergyman. "Biggle!" "Certainly. Did you ever see anything like that cure? Ah! you ought to preach about dear Harriet, Mr.
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