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Updated: June 13, 2025
They were a couple of raw new ponies, come down out of last drove, and unused to trams and motors, and frightened dancing mad; only for you heading them off, we were all as dead as mutton." "But how did you get into the Burmese priesthood?" inquired Shafto with abrupt irrelevance.
There was a number of young people on board the Blankshire, and since the good old days of Tadpool Shafto had never enjoyed himself so thoroughly. It was the first time since he had arrived at man's estate that he had been associated with girls of his own class.
Little did Fuchsia suppose, as she chattered unguardedly and gave away a confidence, that, in doing so, she had signed what was neither more nor less than a sentence of death. Two days after the ball, as Shafto was passing through the veranda, Roscoe met him, took him by the arm, accompanied him into his room, and solemnly closed the door. "Anything up?"
"Talk about horses," repeated FitzGerald in a teasing voice, "and if he isn't blushing up to his ears! I'll tell you what, young Shafto, it's a treat to see a real blush in this part of the world; blushing is rare in Burma, and I'd just like to have your coloured photograph," continued FitzGerald, whose methods of chaff were as rude and crude as those of any schoolboy.
I've never come across such a piece, and I've seen a good few in my time. How did you get hold of it?" "Mr. Shafto gave it to me," replied Mrs. Malone, in her stiffest manner. "And I picked it off a stall in the Caledonian Market," supplemented Shafto. "What luck; what incredible luck!" exclaimed the dealer, nodding his big head; "well, Mrs.
A young man may offer sweets, serenade a girl a few times; if he is acceptable, there's a family dinner, with much chewing of betel nut, and that constitutes the ceremony!" "What a happy-go-lucky country!" exclaimed Shafto. "Happy, yes! Lucky, I'm not sure! Well now, don't lose your way; first turn to the right, second to the left, and there is the Strand. Good night!"
"I don't exactly run it, but I do my best to drag it along and it's rather awkward from my being a new-comer; pice and rupees are novelties, and everything is supposed to be in German fashion." "German fashion!" echoed Shafto. "What's that?" "Oh, particular hours, particular food, Blutwurst, sausages, Russian salads, cakes, creams, and plenty of them."
Now, if you will show me your baggage, I have a couple of coolies here with a cart and a taxi for ourselves." Mr. Salter proved to be remarkably prompt in his measures, and in less than ten minutes Shafto found himself following his flat narrow back down the steep gangway and setting his foot for the first time on the soil of Burma. He halted for a moment to look about.
Shafto stared for a moment, then he said: "By George! I do know him though I can hardly believe my eyes. I'll go and speak to him and find out what this means," and he hurried away below. "Hullo, Mung Baw!" he exclaimed. "Say, this is something like a surprise! What are you doing here?" "Much the same as yourself, sir. The Tug of War is drawing us all home.
"This is very formal," exclaimed Sophy, as he entered the somewhat dusky drawing-room; "visiting hour and visiting card complete. What does it mean?" "It merely means that I wish to see you," replied Shafto; "I can never get a look in elsewhere. One would almost think that you avoided me and wanted to cut me." "What a ridiculous idea!" she exclaimed, sitting down and motioning him to a chair.
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