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Updated: June 7, 2025
Our proper headquarters were, of course, in Ballygore, the principal town in the East Connor division of Down. But a great deal of business had to be done in Dublin and we could hardly have got on without an office. I walked into this room a few minutes before eleven on the morning after I had entertained Titherington in my hotel. "The lady hasn't arrived yet," I said.
I had not slept at all since I got the influenza and I could not sleep then, but I thought it better to pretend to sleep and I lay as still as I could. After I had been pretending for a long while, at some hour in the very middle of the night, Titherington burst into my room in a noisy way. He was in evening dress and his shirt front had a broad wrinkle across it.
She's been dead for twenty years." "A good job for her," said Titherington. "The Archdeacon would agree with you there." "What Archdeacon?" I saw that I had made an unfortunate admission. Titherington, in his present mood, would be quite capable of bringing the Archdeacon down on us here. I would almost rather have a second nurse. I hastened to cover my mistake. "Any Archdeacon," I said.
He may not be able to do me any good, but he'll give orders that I'm to be left quiet and that's all I want." "McMeekin's no damned use as a doctor; but he'll " "Then get some one else. Surely he's not the only one there is." "There are two others, but they're both sure to support you in any case, whereas McMeekin " The way Titherington was discussing my illness annoyed me.
He was in the afterglow of the meet, for with Titherington, the Englishman, and Tad Warren, the Wright flier, he was going to race from Belmont Park to New Haven for a ten-thousand-dollar prize jointly offered by a New Haven millionaire and a New York newspaper.
I wouldn't give tuppence for Vittie's chances of getting a dozen votes in this part of the division. We had two temperance secretaries, damned asses, to propose votes of thanks." "For my influenza?" "You're getting better," said Titherington, "not a doubt of it.
Each time he took it he sighed and became more restless and miserable looking than before. On the 19th of February I developed a sharp attack of influenza. Titherington flew to my side at once, which was the thing, of all possible things, that I most wanted him not to do. He aggravated my sufferings greatly by speaking as if my condition were my own fault. I was too feverish to argue coherently.
The vivid Countess Masco, née Titherington, was looked upon with disfavor by the more conservative Romans, and her position was rather, one might say, on the outer edge of the inner circle.
It is very curious how hard Titherington finds it to believe that he has made a mistake. He will probably go down to his grave maintaining that the letters A.S.P.L. stand for woman's suffrage, although I pointed out to him more than once that they do not. The latter part of Titherington's letter was devoted to a carefully reasoned explanation of the actual victory of O'Donoghue.
Titherington and gave me the results of them in series of phrases which, I felt sure, he had picked up from somebody else. "Titherington," he said, "has his finger on the pulse of the constituency." "There isn't a trick of the trade but Titherington is thoroughly up to it." "For taking the wind out of the sails of the other side Titherington is absolutely A1."
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