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datatime: 2022-12-02 20:55:02 Author:LVZSDPkQ

Of course, if they like bread, that makes it rather rotten, doesn't it? What are you going to do about it?'

And having concluded this delicate financial deal Lord Dawlish turned, the movement bringing him face to face with a tall girl in white.

Lord Dawlish eyed the strange fowl without enthusiasm.

Gawd bless yer, guv'nor.'

He has just gone into a public-house.'

This did not touch Lord Dawlish deeply. He was not very fond of bread. But it seemed to be troubling the poor fellow with the studs a great deal, so, realizing that tastes differ and that there is no accounting for them, he looked at him commiseratingly.

Only a bob,' his lordship hastened to say. 'Rather a sad case, don't you know. Squads of children at home demanding bread. Didn't want much else, apparently, but were frightfully keen on bread.'

He may have gone to telephone or something, what?'

Buy a dying rooster, guv'nor,' he advised. 'Causes great fun and laughter.'

No,' he said, with a slight shudder.

There was a pause. The situation had the appearance of being at a deadlock.

Buy a dying rooster, guv'nor,' he advised. 'Causes great fun and laughter.'

I wish,' said Claire, fretfully, leading the way down the grillroom stairs, 'that you wouldn't let all London sponge on you like this. I keep telling you not to. I should have thought that if any one needed to keep what little money he has got it was you.'

And having concluded this delicate financial deal Lord Dawlish turned, the movement bringing him face to face with a tall girl in white.

Lord Dawlish eyed the strange fowl without enthusiasm.

Claire was looking after the stud merchant, as, grasping his wealth, he scuttled up the avenue.

She developed this theme to-day, not only on the stairs leading to the grillroom, but even after they had seated themselves at their table. It was a relief to Bill when the arrival of the waiter with food caused a break in the conversation and enabled him adroitly to change the subject.

Gawd bless yer, guv'nor.'

It was in the days of the Regency that the Dawlish coffers first began to show signs of cracking under the strain, in the era of the then celebrated Beau Dawlish. Nor were his successors backward in the spending art. A breezy disregard for the preservation of the pence was a family trait. Bill was at Cambridge when his predecessor in the title, his Uncle Philip, was performing the concluding exercises of the dissipation of the Dawlish doubloons, a feat which he achieved so neatly that when he died there was just enough cash to pay the doctors, and no more. Bill found himself the possessor of that most ironical thing, a moneyless title. He was then twenty-three.

Lord Dawlish eyed the strange fowl without enthusiasm.

Buy a dying rooster, guv'nor,' he advised. 'Causes great fun and laughter.'

Buy a dying rooster, guv'nor,' he advised. 'Causes great fun and laughter.'

I'll tell you what,' said Lord Dawlish, with the air of one who, having pondered, has been rewarded with a great idea: 'the fact is, I really don't want to buy anything. You seem by bad luck to be stocked up with just the sort of things I wouldn't be seen dead in a ditch with. I can't stand rubber rings, never could. I'm not really keen on buttonhooks. And I don't want to hurt your feelings, but I think that squeaking bird of yours is about the beastliest thing I ever met. So suppose I give you a shilling and call it square, what?'

During the business talk which had just come to an end this girl had been making her way up the side street which forms a short cut between Coventry Street and the Bandolero, and several admirers of feminine beauty who happened to be using the same route had almost dislocated their necks looking after her. She was a strikingly handsome girl. She was tall and willowy. Her eyes, shaded by her hat, were large and grey. Her nose was small and straight, her mouth, though somewhat hard, admirably shaped, and she carried herself magnificently. One cannot blame the policeman on duty in Leicester Square for remarking to a cabman as she passed that he envied the bloke that that was going to meet.

I wish,' said Claire, fretfully, leading the way down the grillroom stairs, 'that you wouldn't let all London sponge on you like this. I keep telling you not to. I should have thought that if any one needed to keep what little money he has got it was you.'

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