at this dinner. Elwes, I think, was A.D.C. to Colley, and

weeping grass mustard netfood2023-12-01 07:19:12 9973 8764

"Thorough," repeated Mr. Tooting, delightedly.

at this dinner. Elwes, I think, was A.D.C. to Colley, and

"That's it--Colonel," said Mr. Watling. "Have you ordered your uniform yet, Ham?"

at this dinner. Elwes, I think, was A.D.C. to Colley, and

Mr. Tooting plainly appreciated this joke, for he grinned.

at this dinner. Elwes, I think, was A.D.C. to Colley, and

"I guess you won't starve if you don't get that commissionership, Tim," he retorted.

"And I guess," returned Mr. Watling, "that you won't go naked if you don't have a uniform."

Victoria's surmise was true. At ten o'clock at night, two days before the convention, a tall figure had appeared in the empty rotunda of the Pelican, startling the clerk out of a doze. He rubbed his eyes and stared, recognized Hilary Vane, and yet failed to recognize him. It was an extraordinary occasion indeed which would cause Mr. McAvoy to lose his aplomb; to neglect to seize the pen and dip it, with a flourish, into the ink, and extend its handle towards the important guest; to omit a few fitting words of welcome. It was Hilary who got the pen first, and wrote his name in silence, and by this time Mr. McAvoy had recovered his presence of mind sufficiently to wield the blotter.

"We didn't expect you to-night, Mr. Vane," he said, in a voice that sounded strange to him, "but we've kept Number Seven, as usual. Front!"

"The old man's seen his day, I guess," Mr. McAvoy remarked, as he studied the register with a lone reporter. "This Crewe must have got in on 'em hard, from what they tell me, and Adam Hunt has his dander up."



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