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Updated: May 7, 2025
Stout, middle-aged matrons, with pompous manners; thin matrons, precise and formal of speech; tall elegants, with flowing robes and Parisian millinery; sporting-looking women, with short skirts and motor-caps. One after another they drove up to the door and sat for a few moments in the drawing-room, going through the same stereotyped conversation: "How pleasant to have the Court opened once more!
The following day a private cab was seen passing along the street with a sporting-looking tiger behind. The gentleman driving stopped once or twice, then turning round, brought up at Captain Davenport's door. Down jumped the tiger, and out sprang the gentleman. Walter and Emily were in the parlour. "Why, that is cousin Tom!" exclaimed Walter, and he ran out to open the front door.
There is Verrier, and here, driving a sporting-looking car, is Carpentier, whose more familiar costume is a pair of white slips and a pair of four-ounce gloves. For Carpentier has been mobilized, too.
"The story is finished," declared the Naval Attache; "until Lord Arthur is arrested or the bodies are found there is nothing more to tell of either Chetney or the Princess Zichy." "Of Lord Chetney, perhaps not," interrupted the sporting-looking gentleman with the black tie, "but there'll always be something to tell of the Princess Zichy. I know enough stories about her to fill a book.
"The story is finished," declared the Naval Attache; "until Lord Arthur is arrested or the bodies are found there is nothing more to tell of either Chetney or the Princess Zichy." "Of Lord Chetney perhaps not," interrupted the sporting-looking gentleman with the black tie, "but there'll always be something to tell of the Princess Zichy. I know enough stories about her to fill a book.
It conveyed nothing to him except what he had long suspected that his sporting-looking friend had sporting blood as well as that kind of exterior. He expressed a kindly hope that the other's Unknown would bring home the bacon. Mr. Blake laughed one of those hollow, mirthless laughs. "There ain't any blooming Unknown," he said, bitterly. This man had plainly suffered. "Yesterday, yes, but not now."
Goldmark, the proprietress, a plump, pretty young woman, whose dark, flashing eyes turned alternately from watching her waitresses to smiling on her customers as they came to the desk to pay their bills. Melky, his smart billy-cock hat cocked to one side, his sporting-looking overcoat adorned with a flower, was evidently paying compliments to Mrs.
It was a most unbush-like, sporting-looking, high, mail phaeton, mounted by four steps; it had three seats, a hood in front, and a rack for luggage behind. It would hold eight persons. The body and wheels were painted bright scarlet and black; and it was drawn by a pair of very showy-looking horses, about sixteen "hands" high, with elegant and well-blacked harness. Mr.
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