"Sir Rowland, I salute you as your nephew. You know that. You see me here, an admitted failure in the object to which I have devoted two years of my life. A jolly night we made of it, as you may suppose; for four such monarchs don't often come together. “I cannot but conclude,” he said, “that your errand involved the recital to my wife of some trouble in which you find yourself. Ruth?" "Why the devil not? Why do you suppose she married you if she didn't love you? While you read I watched her face. ” He was strangely silent. ‘Cousin? But I am a fool. I suppose the phrase—the word—originally meant a man who searched for food on the beach. She had tried him as a Crusader, in which guise he seemed plausible but heavy—“There IS something heavy about him; I wonder if it’s his mustache?”—and as a Hussar, which made him preposterous, and as a Black Brunswicker, which was better, and as an Arab sheik. He has been bottling it up all the way from West Kensington.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 08-09-2024 06:20:58
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