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Updated: June 7, 2025
I dare say they might be proud of such a performance in London, but they've more decency here!" It seemed characteristic of Mr. Walkingshaw's calamity that he should bounce up like a tennis ball after each well-meant effort to depress him. "In that case," said he cheerfully, "we'll just have to say I am trying to make myself more of a companion for you." Andrew started violently.
As it was, her parents spent a strenuous fortnight in persuading her to accept so excellent an opportunity of reducing their supply of marriageable daughters to the more reasonable number of five, and the approval of their creditors was practically unanimous. They had been engaged for a month, when, upon that same afternoon, she arrived on a short visit to the Walkingshaw's house.
But to-day his father accepted the rebuke without a murmur. In a moment the hard Scotch voice smote again "The idea of a man in your position going to an infernal quack like Professor Cyrus! Professor? Humph! The man's killing you." Mr. Walkingshaw's ruddy face grew redder.
"No no, he won't! That horrible beast will see that he doesn't!" Miss Walkingshaw started nervously. "You're not meaning the nurse?" "I mean that ugh! that Andrew!" A bright pink spot appeared in each of Miss Walkingshaw's cheeks. But the widow was too agitated to observe either them or the horrified stare with which she greeted this outburst. "I believe he would kill him to spite me!"
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