Made to Measure - Deep Waters, Part 3. by W. W. Jacobs
page 8 of 17 (47%)
page 8 of 17 (47%)
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"You'll get cold if you're not careful," said his thoughtful niece. "That's the worst of men, they never seem to have any thought. Did he seem angry, or mournful, or what? I suppose you couldn't see his face?" "I didn't try," said Mr. Mott, crisply. "Good night." By the morning his ill-humour had vanished, and he even became slightly facetious over the events of the night. The mood passed at the same moment that Mr. Hurst passed the window. "Better have him in and get it over," he said, irritably. Miss Garland shuddered. "Never!" she said, firmly. "He'd be down on his knees. It would be too painful. You don't know him." "Don't want to," said Mr. Mott. He finished his breakfast in silence, and, after a digestive pipe, proposed a walk. The profile of Mr. Hurst, as it went forlornly past the window again, served to illustrate Miss Garland's refusal. "I'll go out and see him," said Mr. Mott, starting up. "Are you going to be a prisoner here until this young idiot chooses to go home? It's preposterous!" He crammed his hat on firmly and set out in pursuit of Mr. Hurst, who was walking slowly up the street, glancing over his shoulder. "Morning!" |
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