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Updated: June 17, 2025


Tapster frowned and stared gloomily into the fire; then he suddenly pulled himself together rather sharply, for the door behind him had slowly swung open. This was intolerable! The parlor-maid had again and again been told that, whatever might have been the case in her former places, no door in Mr. Tapster's house was to be opened without the preliminary of a respectful knock.

"A man on the bridge saw her go in," went on the policeman, "so she wasn't in the water long, something like a quarter of an hour, for we soon found her. I suppose you would like her taken up-stairs, sir?" "No, no," stammered Mr. Tapster, "not up-stairs; the children are up-stairs." Mr. Tapster's round, prominent eyes were shadowed with a great horror and an even greater surprise.

Now she told herself that perhaps the peculiar, disturbing sensation had only been a forerunner of James Tapster's unexpected offer of marriage. "What would you say to our all going out for a walk?" Luncheon was just over, and Varick was facing his guests. The only one missing was Dr. Panton, who had gone up to his room, saying he had some work to do.

In refusing wine, she blushed; then the fellow offered a glass to Cyril, who went scarlet, and mumbled 'No' with a lump in his throat; when the tapster's back was turned, he smiled sheepishly at his mother. The majority of the company accepted and sipped. The auctioneer sipped and loudly smacked, and said: "Ah!" Mr. Critchlow came in. And the auctioneer said again: "Ah!

Tapster's half-formed hope had been that he would walk with Bubbles this afternoon; but, when it came to the point, he had made no real effort to secure her company. The unfortunate man was feeling very nervous and uneasy afraid lest he had been too precipitate in his wooing, for Bubbles frightened as well as fascinated him.

And when all men unite to worship God, it'll be praise, not prayer, that brings them together. "'Praise is devotion fit for noble minds, The differing world's agreeing sacrifice." "Oh, if you're going to fling quotations from a tapster's son at my head. . . . Let me see . . . how does it go on? . . . Where something or other different faiths "'Where Heaven divided faiths united finds. . . ."

Tapster's mournful thoughts was disturbed by a curious little sound that of some one creeping softly down the staircase leading from the upper floors. Once more he half rose from his chair, only to fall heavily back again, with a look of impotent annoyance on his round, whiskered face. Where was the use of his going out into the hall and catching Nurse on her way to the kitchen?

He wore a yokel's smock much too big for him, and yet not big enough to hide his bespurred riding-boots. On his head he had a dirty tapster's bonnet, and his face was completely hidden by a rudely-cut crape vizard. This singular person was evidently the leader of the gang.

Tapsters of this world, in respectful and subdued tones: "Can I just come in and speak to you, sir? There's been a sad accident your lady fallen in the water; we found these keys in her pocket, and then some one said she was Mrs. Tapster"; and the policeman held out the two keys which had played a not unimportant part in Mr. Tapster's interview with Flossy.

On the other hand, she was aware that there were many people in the London set among whom she now lived and had her being, who would regard her as mad to refuse a man who, whatever his peculiarities, possessed enormous wealth. If only she could have had a tenth part of James Tapster's money without James Tapster, what a happy woman she would have been!

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