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For, by God, Guy Little, he is a Packard even if he has got a wrong start! Rich man's son silver-spoon stuff why, it would spoil a better man than you ever saw! Didn't I spoil my son Phil that-a-way? Didn't Phil start out spoilin' his son Stephen that same way? But he's a Packard an' an' " "An' what, m'lord?" The old man's fist fell heavily on the arm of his chair.
It was his favourite room, his smoking-room, his reading-room, and his office. He had been for a long ride, and was now lying back in an easy chair, with a long whisky-and-soda by his side, reading the Pall Mall Gazette. In literature his taste was blameless. Holloway, ushering William Roper into the room, said: "William Roper, m'lord," and withdrew.
Octagon likewise. Cuthbert listened quietly, and then gave the man, whom he knew well, half a sovereign. "Tell Mrs. Octagon that Lord Caranby wishes to see her." "Yes, sir, but I don't " "I am Lord Caranby. My uncle died this evening." The butler opened his eyes. "Yes, m'lord," he said promptly, and admitted Cuthbert into the hall.
It contained the thumb-prints of all the family and some of her friends." "Is this the book?" asked the judge, passing the volume down to the witness. The sergeant turned over the leaves until he came to one which he apparently recognised, and said "Yes, m'lord; this is the book. Mrs. Hornby showed me the thumb-prints of various members of the family, and then found those of the two nephews.
The fire in such eyes is always cold, for hunger is poor fuel to the native flame of life. "Extra speshul, m'lord all about Kruger's guns." He held out the paper to the figure that darkened the window, and he pronounced the g in Kruger soft, as in Scrooge. The hand that took the paper deftly slipped a shilling into the cold, skinny palm.
They may be dying of the fever now this very hour! Deuce take it, man! d'you wonder I'm impatient?" "Aye, m'lord! But here's the dawn, and McPhee is keeping up a full head of steam. We'll soon be doing seven knots." As he spoke, the skipper turned to step into the pilot house.
"Thompson," said Tarvrille to the imperturbable butler, and indicating the table generally, "champagne. Champagne. Keep it going." "M'lord," and Thompson marshalled his assistants. Some man I didn't know began to remember things about Mandalay.
"Are you Lord Easterton?" the officer at the entrance asked, as Easterton handed him his card. "Ah, then come this way, please, m'lord. This gentleman a friend of yours? Follow the constable, please." We were shown into a room on the ground floor, to the right of the hall. It was large, high-ceilinged, with a billiard table in the middle.
"Not knowin' what you thought an' not even knowin' what you wanted to think, an' figgerin' to play safe, I've picked up the dope all over. Which is sayin' I bought drinks on both sides the street, whiskey at Whitey Wimble's joint an' more of the same at Dan Hodges's. An' I foun' out several things, m'lord. If it is your wish " "Spit 'em out, Guy Little! What for a man is he?"
He took up the single volume and thrust it out of sight under the leather cushion of his chair. The mechanician was in the room before he could get his pipe lighted. "You called, m'lord?" Guy Little stood drawn up to make the most of his very inconsiderable height, eyes straight ahead, hands at sides, chin elevated and stationary.
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