His heart was beating again.
Pooh!...
A single wrench and he ripped up the letter, and cast it into one of
the red-lined waste-paper baskets with which the immense and rather
shabby writing-room of the Majestic was dotted.
Before he had finished dealing with Mr. Marrier's queries and
suggestions--some ten thousand in all--the clock struck, and Nellie
tripped into the room. She was in black silk, with hints here and
there of gold chains. As she had explained, she had nothing to wear,
and was therefore obliged to fall back on the final resource of every
woman in her state. For in this connection "nothing to wear" signified
"nothing except my black silk"--at any rate in the Five Towns.
"Mr. Marrier--my wife. Nellie, this is Mr. Marrier."
Mr. Marrier was profuse: no other word would describe his demeanour.
Nellie had the timidity of a young girl. Indeed she looked quite
youthful, despite the ageing influences of black silk.
"So that's your Mr. Marrier! I understood from you he was a clerk!"
said Nellie, tartly, suddenly retransformed into the shrewd matron, as
soon as Mr. Marrier had profusely gone. She had conceived Marrier as a
sort of Penkethman! Edward Henry had hoped to avoid this interview.
He shrugged his shoulders in answer to his wife's remark.
"Well," he said, "where are the kids?"
"Waiting in the lounge with nurse, as you said to be.
Pages:
263
264
265
266
267
268
269
270
271
272
273
274
275
276
277
278
279
280
281
282
283
284
285
286
287