But you can't 'ave us goin' and being grateful on our bended knees to the
sort of person as according to your account of it gave me my first 'usband
'oo was a blackguard if ever there was one, and my last child wot 'ad
rickets and so 'andsomely arranged me to go breakin' my leg one night
coming back from a party and sliding on the stairs, and in losin' my little
bit o' charin' and as near the workus as ever yer see--no--it ain't common
sense."
To which Miss Connacher vaguely looking around for a list of Mrs. Williams'
blessings and finding none to speak of, had no reply.
But the astonishing thing was that Peter seemed at once to be seized with
the Bucket Lane position. He was now, he understood, in a world of
earthquake--wise citizens lived from minute to minute and counted on no
longer safety. He began also to eliminate everything that was not
absolutely essential. At Brockett's he had never consciously done without
anything that he wanted--in Bucket Lane he discarded to the last possible
shred of possession.
He had returned from his first day's hunting with the resolve that before
he ventured out again he would have something to show. With a precious
sixpence he bought a copy of _The Mascot_ and studied it--there was a short
story entitled "Mrs. Adair's Co."--and an article on "What Society
Drinks"--the remaining pages of the number were filled with pictures and
"Chatter from Day to Day.
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