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During all this time Mr. Spillikins was nerving himself to propose to Dulphemia Rasselyer-Brown. In fact, he spent part of his time walking up and down under the trees with Philippa Furlong and discussing with her the proposal that he meant to make, together with such topics as marriage in general and his own unworthiness.
Spillikins had got engaged, or practically so, to Adelina Lightleigh; not that he had spoken to her, but he considered himself bound to her. For her sake he had given up hell altogether, and was dancing till two in the morning and studying action bridge out of a book.
From his throat there issued a low wail in which the word wah! wah! could be distinguished. The excitement was intense. "What does wah mean?" whispered Mr. Spillikins. "Hush!" said Mr. Snoop; "it means, 'O Buddha, wherever thou art in thy lofty Nirvana, descend yet once in astral form before our eyes!" Mr. Yahi-Bahi rose.
"And why didn't it? why did it go to Pitman? what right had Pitman to open it?" "If you come to that, Morris, what have you done with the colossal Hercules?" asked Michael. "He went through it with the meat-axe," said John. "It's all in spillikins in the back garden." "Well, there's one thing," snapped Morris; "there's my uncle again, my fraudulent trustee. He's mine, anyway. And the tontine too.
"Do you know, dear boys," cried Ardan, led off as usual by the slightest fancy, "do you know what I am thinking of when I look down on the great rugged plains spread out beneath us?" "I can't say, I'm sure," replied Barbican, somewhat piqued at the little attention he had secured for his theory. "Well, what are you thinking of?" asked M'Nicholl. "Spillikins!" answered Ardan triumphantly.
Almost any day, on Plutoria Avenue or thereabouts, you may see little Mr. Spillikins out walking with his four tall sons, who are practically as old as himself. To be exact, Mr. Spillikins is twenty-four, and Bob, the oldest of the boys, must be at least twenty. Their exact ages are no longer known, because, by a dreadful accident, their mother forgot them.
But until Lady Glenmire came to call next day we heard of nothing unusual. The kitchen fire-irons were in exactly the same position against the back door as when Martha and I had skilfully piled them up, like spillikins, ready to fall with an awful clatter if only a cat had touched the outside panels.
Spillikins, as he gazed at her in her white summer dress and wide picture hat, with her parasol nodding above her head, realized that after all, religion, as embodied in the younger sisters of the High Church clergy, fills a great place in the world. "By Jove!" he repeated, "how awfully good of you!" "Not a bit," said Philippa. "Hop in. Dulphemia was coming, but she couldn't.
"I don't mind a bit," said Philippa. "I think it's awfully nice of you to tell me about it." She didn't add that she knew all about it already. "You see," said Mr. Spillikins, "you're so awfully sympathetic. It makes it so easy to talk to you. With other girls, especially with clever ones, even with Dulphemia. I often feel a perfect jackass beside them. But I don t feel that way with you at all."
This year we put in all this new glass in the east conservatory, over a thousand panes. Such a tremendous business!" "I was just telling Mr. Spillikins," said Mr. Newberry, "about the work we had blasting out the motor road. You can see the gap where it lies better from here, I think, Spillikins. I must have exploded a ton and a half of dynamite on it." "By Jove!" said Mr.
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