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Updated: June 26, 2025
Thus the whole romance of the ancient city disappears from the word, and the policeman's reverent courtesy of demeanour deserts him quite suddenly. This does seem to me the case against any extreme revolution in spelling. If you spell a word wrong you have some temptation to think it wrong. Somebody writes complaining of something I said about progress. In any case, what I say now is this.
A policeman's helmet came into sight. She flew away as though somebody were in pursuit of her: the man could not see that she had grey hairs and that she was a lady. Perhaps he, too, looked upon her as one of those. Let her only get away, away. She threw herself into a cab, she fell rather than got into it. She gave the driver her address in a trembling voice.
This shows the scarcity of travellers in that country. At the election I was in a minority by three votes in Winton, but the outside places returned me with a substantial majority. Labour gained a few more seats at this election, and the verbosity one had to listen to made an M.L.A.'s life, like a policeman's, not a happy one.
For the first time in my life I walked side by side with a detective. He led us to the far end of the restaurant, into an apartment usually used by the manager as a wine-tasting office, and carefully closed the door behind us. Outside I caught the glimmer of a policeman's helmet. "Every precaution taken, you perceive," Mr. Parker remarked.
His father, mother and Uncle Tad laughed. "What a boy!" cried Mother Brown. "To think the roar of a beautiful waterfall is but the noise of a trolley car! He will never be a poet, will he Daddy?" "I don't want to be," said Bunny quickly. "I'm going to be a policeman when I grow up, and have a gun." "All right," chuckled Daddy Brown. "But a policeman's life is not an easy one."
He realized that this was not the place for a prolonged conversation. "Spike," he said, "do you know Savoy Mansions?" "Sure. Foist to de left across de way." "Come on there. I'll meet you at the door. We can't talk here. That cop's got his eye on us." He walked away. As he went, he smiled. The policeman's inspection had made him suddenly alert and on his guard. Yet why?
Ned was a man who, while he claimed and exercised the right to treat his own wife as he pleased, was exceedingly jealous of the interference of others with his privileges. He advanced, therefore, at once, and planted his practised knuckles on the policeman's forehead with such power that the unfortunate limb of the law rolled over in one direction and his helmet in another.
The stranger stopped. The striking of the two matches had attracted his attention. "Have you lost something?" he called. "No," Orme replied. The man started toward Orme, as if to investigate, and then Orme noticed that outlined on his head was a policeman's helmet. To be found going through the pockets of an unconscious man was not to Orme's liking.
The attitude of these two young men and their chauffeur was perfectly correct, and the policeman's views had been strengthened materially by the tell-tale tokens he had noted on the gray car, which, however, he had not thought fit to mention.
The policeman tried to stop and catch Billy by spreading out his legs and waving his arms, but Billy only lowered his head and ran between the policeman's legs, upsetting him as he went through for Billy was fat and the policeman short-legged and there was not room to slide through without upsetting the man.
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