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Updated: May 4, 2025
"I want you not to touch it, O'Hagan. Under penalty of my extreme displeasure, don't lay a finger on it till I give you permission. Don't dare to dust it. Do you understand?" "Yissor. Very good, Mr. Maitland." Bannerman pushed back his chair a few inches, shifting position the better to benefit of a faint air that fanned in through the open window.
"Corey!" said Lapham, in the peremptory voice of a master, he had seemed so indifferent to Corey's presence that the young man thought he must have forgotten he was there, "Is Dennis anywhere round?" "Yissor," said Dennis, answering for himself from the head of the stairs, and appearing in the ware-room. Lapham spoke to the woman again.
The assumption of Maitland's ironic drawl was impeccable. O'Hagan no more questioned it than he questioned his own sanity. "Here, send this wire at once, please; and," pressing a coin into the ready palm, "keep the change. I was hurried and didn't bother to call you. And, I say, O'Hagan!" from the outer door: "Yissor." "If that fellow Snaith ever calls again, I'm not at home." "Very good, sor."
A small bowl of beaten brass, which he used as an ash-receiver, stood ready to his hand; he took it up, carefully blew it clean of dust, and inverted it over the print of the hand. On top of the bowl he placed a weighty afterthought in the shape of a book. "O'Hagan!" "Waitin', sor." "Come hither, O'Hagan. You see that desk?" "Yissor." "Are you sure?" "Ah, faith "
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