`Oh dear me, sir?' repeated Stryver, drawing back.
`Oh dear you, sir? What may your meaning be, Mr. Lorry?'
`My meaning,' answered the man of business, `is, of course, friendly and appreciative, and that it does you the greatest credit, and--in short, my meaning is everything you could desire. But--really, you know, Mr. Stryver ---' Mr. Lorry paused, and shook his head at him in the oddest manner, as if he were compelled against his will to add, internally, `you know there really is so much too much of you!'
`Well!' said Stryver, slapping the desk with his contentious hand, opening his eyes wider, and taking a long breath, `if I understand you, Mr. Lorry, I'll be hanged!'
Mr. Lorry adjusted his little wig at both ears as a means towards that end, and bit the feather of a pen.
`D--n it all, sir!' said Stryver, staring at him, `am I not eligible?'
`Oh dear yes! Yes. Oh yes, you're eligible!' said Mr. Lorry. `If you say eligible, you are eligible.'
`Am I not prosperous?' asked Stryver.
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but he had not been as idle as he appeared to have been.
engagingly. “It wouldn’t be every day a body could
were disturbing the young waif, she said nothing but merely
“She’ll be putting the Evil Eye on ye all” croaked
(an odd red-breasted little bird, which inhabits the thick
thinking. The crowd was responding with a new roar, seeking
it—had to stretch her own to keep up. As they drew near
“But why? Why not be silencing him and taking it?”
mud-banks as the tide falls. They occasionally possess
thing—no, best not to think of Glenfern, for that was
without actually submerging his head, and to regain the
“If your spells haven’t worked, I doubt anyone’s