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Updated: June 20, 2025
"Well now, look 'ere, my toolip," returned the arab in a confidential tone, "I've took quite a fancy to you; you've got such a look, some'ow, of my poor old grandmother. Now, if you've no objection, I'd like to give you your breakfast. You're 'ungry, I suppose?" Jack admitted that he was, and, after a moment's hesitation, accepted this surprisingly kind and liberal offer.
"Gaw!" he whispered, "I don' like dead bodies some'ow! I'd almost rather that chap was alive." He would not go along the path athwart which the Chinaman hung. He felt he would rather not have trees round him any more, and that it would be more comfortable to be quite close to the sociable splash and uproar of the rapids.
He turned away from her stammering: "I've no business here I've no business to be your doctor or anyone's doctor. I think I must be going mad." She shook her head. "No no only too serious, mon pauvre jeune homme. But I like your your Francey. I think she and I be good friends some'ow. She would see things 'ow I see them." And you're right. "One of these days you be friends again too.
"I'll 'ave the vawses all ready wiv clean water for you," said Eliza. "An' don't you worry about the drorin'-room I'll see as it's nice." "Oh, you can't, Eliza you have no time. I know it's silver-cleaning afternoon." "Aw, I'll squeeze it in some'ow." Eliza stopped suddenly, at a decided footstep in the passage, and began to rattle spoons and forks with a vigour born of long practice.
"Reely, I cann' tell you; but thass one thing, Doctah, I dunno if you 'ave notiz: the worl' halways take a gweat deal of welfa'e in a man w'en 'e's 'ising. I do that myseff. Some'ow I cann' 'e'p it." This bold speech was too much for him. He looked down at his symmetrical legs and went back to his desk. The Doctor was far from reassured. After a silence he called out:
But only to think that my Bobby," she added, quitting her leaning-post, and again seizing her son, "that my Bobby should 'ave grow'd up, an' his poor mother knowed nothink about it! I can't believe my eyes it ain't like Bobby a bit, yet some'ow I know it's 'im! Why, you've grow'd into a gentleman, you 'ave." "And you have grown into a flatterer," said Bob, with a laugh.
Bobby, dear, don't steal again." "No, Hetty, I won't, I'll vork. I didn't go for to do it a-purpose, but I was overtook some'ow I seed the umbrellar standin' handy, you know, and etceterer. But I'm sorry I did it, an' I won't do it again."
'Well, she don't exactly sy it, but she sulks an' won't speak, an' then when I says anythin' she rounds on me an' calls me all the nimes she can think of. I'd give 'er a good 'idin', but some'ow I don't like ter! She mikes the plice a 'ell ter me, an' I'm not goin' ter stand it no longer! 'You'll ave ter sit it, then; yer can't chuck it. 'Yus I can, an' I would if you'd come along of me.
I'm goin' 'ome. And she left Sally in the midst of her explanation. 'I dunno wot's up with Liza, remarked Sally to a mutual friend. 'She's always got the needle, some'ow. 'Oh, she's barmy, answered the friend. 'Well, I do think she's a bit dotty sometimes I do really, rejoined Sally. Liza walked homewards, thinking of the play; at length she tossed her head impatiently.
Wot you goin' to call it, if it's a boy?" "John, of course!" said Eleanor. "Um-m-m. Well, I suppose you'll 'ave to, after 'is father, but if I 'ad a son I'd call 'im Perceval. I dunno why! I just would. It sounds nice some'ow. I mean it 'as a nice sound. Only people 'ud call 'im Perce, of course, an' that would be 'orrible. I dessay you're right.
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