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'Then I s'll want a ladder, said the window-cleaner, proceeding to lift one off his trolley. He was in a very great bustle. He knew which was Siegmund's room: he had often seen Siegmund rise from some music he was studying and leave the drawing-room when the window-cleaning began, and afterwards he had found him in the small front bedroom.
Aaron sat and listened. "She won't have any more bouts. If she does, give her a few drops from the little bottle, and raise her up. But she won't have any more," the doctor said. "If she does, I s'll go off my head, I know I shall." "No, you won't. No, you won't do anything of the sort. You won't go off your head.
Mustn't go out again to-night. M.P.'s'll catch you. I'll get you to bed without anybody knowing. Mustn't 'sturb my wife, though. Mustn't make any noise." And, adding force to persuasion, he got his arms around Quin and backed him so suddenly against the wall that they both took an unexpected seat on the floor.
Paul ate in silence; his father, with earthy hands, and sleeves rolled up, sat in the arm-chair opposite and looked at him. "Well, an' how is she?" asked the miner at length, in a little voice. "She can sit up; she can be carried down for tea," said Paul. "That's a blessin'!" exclaimed Morel. "I hope we s'll soon be havin' her whoam, then. An' what's that Nottingham doctor say?"
"So you don't mind?" "I would NEVER have let a daughter of mine marry a man I didn't FEEL to be genuine through and through. And yet, there's a gap now she's gone." They were both miserable, and wanted her back again. It seemed to Paul his mother looked lonely, in her new black silk blouse with its bit of white trimming. "At any rate, mother, I s'll never marry," he said.
'But will you come? He looked at her. 'Ay, I s'll come, he said. Then he turned to Mr. Enderby. 'Well, good-afternoon, Mr. Enderby, he said. 'Good-afternoon, Harry, good-afternoon, replied the mournful minister. Fanny followed Harry to the door, and for some time they walked in silence through the late afternoon. 'And it's yours as much as anybody else's? she said. 'Ay, he answered shortly.
Dawes lay thinking. "Why don't you ask Thomas Jordan to lend you his?" said Dawes. "It's not big enough," Morel answered. Dawes blinked his dark eyes as he lay thinking. "Then ask Jack Pilkington; he'd lend it you. You know him." "I think I s'll hire one," said Paul. "You're a fool if you do," said Dawes. The sick man was gaunt and handsome again.
"I'm sure he didn't do it on purpose," said Mrs. Morel. "Make me a liar!" shouted Mrs. Anthony. Mrs. Morel moved away and closed her gate. Her hand trembled as she held her mug of barm. "But I s'll let your mester know," Mrs. Anthony cried after her.
"Won't it be nice for me to come out at dinner-times?" said Paul. "I can go all round here and see everything. I s'll love it." "You will," assented his mother. He had spent a perfect afternoon with his mother. They arrived home in the mellow evening, happy, and glowing, and tired. In the morning he filled in the form for his season-ticket and took it to the station.
We won't open any of them till we've taken them all out and then we'll undo one in our turns. Then we s'll both undo equal," Millicent was saying. "Yes, we'll take them ALL out first," re-echoed Marjory. "And what are they going to do about Job Arthur Freer? Do they want him?" A faint smile came on her husband's face. "Nay, I don't know what they want.
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