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Updated: June 9, 2025
"Pail on the stairs!" This mild exclamation came from the passage. Mrs. Baines, misliking the crowds abroad, had returned alone; she had left Constance in charge of Mr. Povey. Coming into her house by the shop and showroom, she had first noted the phenomenon of the pail proof of her theory of Maggie's incurable untidiness. "Been to see the elephant, I reckon!" said Mr.
The difference between the scientist and the enthusiast is that the former knows the difference between these two classes of evidence. The Hen's Ancestors. To one who is unfamiliar with the different types of chickens found in a poultry showroom, it seems incredible that these varieties should have descended from one parent source.
He had hardly seated himself comfortably at his desk, however, when Abe burst into the room. "That's the way it goes, Mawruss," he cried. "Half the time we sit and schmooes in the showroom and we don't know what goes on in our cutting room at all." "What's the matter now?" Morris asked. "Harkavy has quit us again," Abe replied. "Quit us!" Morris exclaimed. "What for?" "Nothing.
He hummed it over and Cesar joined him in a clear, musical barytone. They were thus engaged when a tall, broad-shouldered individual entered the showroom. "Sorry to interrupt you, gentlemen," he said, "but is the boss in?" "In the office back there," Felix replied. "Will you tell him Mr. Gunther would like to see him?" the newcomer continued.
"Do you know the name of this one? I'd like to remember it." "Yes, it's Carr. I asked for her card. C-a-r-r. I think she's a widow." From her retreat behind one of the velvet curtains Madame overheard this conversation, and a few minutes later she stopped Gabriella on her way out, and said amiably that it would not be necessary for her to leave the showroom to-morrow.
From the central, vestry-like showroom a broad and shallow stairway led to a half-landing, containing the clerks' office, and thence to the spacious apartment of Mr. Fortune with which, by doors at either end, communicated the offices of Sabre and of Mr. Twyning. Many stately and eminent persons and no ill-to-do or doubtful persons passed up and down this stairway on visits to the principals.
"I come down on the subway with Max Linkheimer this morning, Mawruss," Abe Potash said to his partner, Morris Perlmutter, as they sat in the showroom one hot July morning. "That feller is a regular philantropist." "I bet yer," Morris replied. "He would talk a tin ear on to you if you only give him a chance. Leon Sammet too, Abe, I assure you.
He even had a second private interview with Mrs. Mellish, and asked her to "keep her as much like she was" as was possible. Stimulated by the suppressed touch of artistic fervor, Mrs. Mellish guessed at something even before her client arrived; but the moment she entered the showroom all was revealed to her at once. The very hint of flush and tremor in Miss Alicia's manner was an assistance.
I have allowed for that." "If you place yourself behind the side-door and put your boxes on the harmonium, you'll be able to catch every one as they come in." "That is what I had thought of, Mrs. Maddack." She went upstairs. Mrs. Baines had reached the showroom again, and was smoothing out creases in the white damask cloth and arranging glass dishes of jam at equal distances from each other.
"Yes, Mawruss," Abe said as he entered the showroom after a brief visit to the barber-shop that morning "what did I told you?" "You didn't told me nothing, Abe," Morris retorted; "and, besides, it was my idee that we wrote him a rotten letter, otherwise we would wait for another week or ten days for our check. As it is, Abe, he deducts four dollars on us for a damage on account of bum packing.
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