More William by Richmal Crompton
page 66 of 234 (28%)
page 66 of 234 (28%)
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Ginger remembered the pangs of hunger, of which excitement had
momentarily rendered him oblivious, and, deciding that there was no time like the present, took a cake from the stand and began to consume it in silence. "You'd better be careful," said the young lady to her hostess; "he might have escaped from the asylum. He looks mad. He had a very mad look, I thought, when he was standing at the window." "He's evidently hungry, anyway. I can't think why father doesn't come." Here Ginger, fortified by a walnut bun, remembered his mission. "It's all right now," he said. "You can go home. He's shut up. Me an' William shut him up." "You see!" said the young lady with a meaning glance around. "I _said_ he was from the asylum. He looked mad. We'd better humour him and ring up the asylum. Have another cake, darling boy," she said in a tone of honeyed sweetness. Nothing loth, Ginger selected an ornate pyramid of icing. At this point there came a bellowing and crashing and tramping outside and Miss Priscilla's father, roaring fury and threats of vengeance, hurled himself into the room. Miss Priscilla's father had made his escape by a small window at the other end of the shed. To do this he had had to climb over the coals in the dark. His face and hands and clothes and once-white beard were covered with coal. His eyes gleamed |
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