Punch, or the London Charivari, Volume 99, December 13, 1890 by Various
page 17 of 41 (41%)
page 17 of 41 (41%)
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_Ang._ Not vulgar? Oh, EDWIN? I can only say I was truly thankful
_Mamma_ wasn't there! _Ed._ (_wincing_). Now, don't, ANGELINA it's quite awful enough as it is. What beats me is how on earth I came to _do_ it all. _Ang._ You see, EDWIN, I wouldn't have minded so much if I had had the least idea you were like _that_. _Ed._ Like that! Good Heavens. ANGIE, am I in the habit of making hideous grimaces before a looking-glass? Do you suppose I am given to over-indulgence in cod-liver oil and whatever the other beastliness was? Am I acrobatic in my calmer moments? Did you ever know me sing--with or without a broom? I'm a shy man by nature (_pathetically_), more shy than you _think_, perhaps,--and in my normal condition, I should be the last person to prance about in a gauze skirt for the amusement of a couple of hundred idiots? I don't believe I did, either! _Ang._ (_impressed by his evident sincerity_). But you said you knew what you were about all the time! _Ed._ I thought so, then. Now--well, hang it, I suppose there's more in this infernal Mesmerism than I fancied. There, it's no use talking about it--it's done. You--you won't mind shaking hands before I go, will you? Just for the last time? _Ang._ (_alarmed_). Why--where are you going? _Ed._ (_desperate_). Anywhere--go out and start on a _ranche_, or |
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