Books > Old Books > Kipps (1905)


Page 076

CHITTERLOW

`Some people like it that way,' said Cahitterlow; and then with voluminous emphasis, `I don't.'
Emboldened by the weakened state of his enemy, Kipps promptly swallowed the rest of him, and had his glass at once hospitably replenished. He began to feel he was of a firmer consistency than he commonly believed, and turned his mind to what Chitterlow was saying with the resolve to play a larger part in the conversation than he had hitherto done. Also he smoked through his nose quite successfully, an art he had only very recently acquired.
Meanwhile, Chitterlow explained that he was a playwright, and the tongue of Kipps was unloosened to respond that he knew a chap or rather one of their fellows knew a chap, or at least, to be perfectly, correct this fellow's brother did, who had written a play. In response to Chitterlow's inquiries, he could not recall the title of the play, nor where it had appeared, nor the name of the manager who produced it, though he thought the title was something about `Love's Ransom,' or something like that.
`He made five 'undred pounds by it, though,' said Kipps. `I know that.'
`That's nothing,' said Chitterlow, with an air of experience that was extremely convincing, `Nothing. May seem a big sum to you, but I can assure you it's just what one gets any day. There's any amount of money, an-ny amount, in a good play.'
`I dessay,' said Kipps, drinking. `Any amount of money!'
Chitterlow began a series of illustrative instances. He was clearly a person of quite unequalled gift for monologue. It was as though some conversational dam had burst upon Kipps, and in a little while he was drifting along upon a copious rapid of talk about all sorts of theatrical things by one who knew all about thern, and quite incapable of anticipating whither that rapid meant to carry him. Presently, somehow, they had got toanecdotes about well-known theatrical managers-little Teddy Bletherskite, artful old Chumps and the magnificent Behemoth, `petted to death, you know, fair sickened, by all these society women.' Chitterlow described various personal encounters with these personages, always with modest self-depreciation, and gave Kipps a very amusing imita

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where is HTML where is HEAD where is TITLE `Some people like it that way,' said Cahitterlow; and then with voluminous emphasis, `I don't.' Emboldened by what is weakened state of his enemy, Kipps promptly swallowed what is rest of him, and had his glass at once hospitably replenished. He began to feel he was of a firmer consistency than he commonly believed, and turned his mind to what Chitterlow was saying with what is resolve to play a larger part in what is conversation than he had hitherto done. Also he smoked through his nose quite successfully, an art he had only very recently acquired. Meanwhile, Chitterlow explained that he was a playwright, and what is tongue of Kipps was unloosened to respond that he knew a chap or rather one of their fellows knew a chap, or at least, to be perfectly, correct this fellow's brother did, who had written a play. In response to Chitterlow's inquiries, he could not recall what is title of what is play, nor where it had appeared, nor what is name of what is manager who produced it, though he thought what is title was something about `Love's Ransom,' or something like that. `He made five 'undred pounds by it, though,' said Kipps. `I know that.' `That's nothing,' said Chitterlow, with an air of experience that was extremely convincing, `Nothing. May seem a big sum to you, but I can assure you it's just what one gets any day. There's any amount of money, an-ny amount, in a good play.' `I dessay,' said Kipps, drinking. `Any amount of money!' Chitterlow began a series of illustrative instances. He was clearly a person of quite unequalled gift for monologue. It was as though some conversational dam had burst upon Kipps, and in a little while he was drifting along upon a copious rapid of talk about all sorts of theatrical things by one who knew all about thern, and quite incapable of anticipating whither that rapid meant to carry him. Presently, somehow, they had got toanecdotes about well-known theatrical managers-little Teddy Bletherskite, artful old Chumps and what is magnificent Behemoth, `petted to what time is it , you know, fair sickened, by all these society women.' Chitterlow described various personal encounters with these personages, always with modest self-depreciation, and gave Kipps a very amusing imita where is meta name="keywords" content="old books, Free book , free book offer , free audio books , free coloring book pages , free book reports , free audio book , audio books free download , book free , free guest book , books free , free book summaries , download free audio books , free childrens books." where is where are they now rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="../../style.css" where is meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=iso-8859-1" where is BODY bgColor=#ffffff text="#000000" where are they now ="#000000" v where are they now ="#FF0000" where is div align="center" where is strong where is strong where is a href="http://www.aaoldbooks.com" Books > where is a href="../default.asp" title="Book" Old Books > where is strong where is a href="default.asp" Kipps (1905) where is table width="700" border="1" align="center" cellpadding="15" cellspacing="0" where is center where is tr where is td width="160" align="center" valign="top" where is div align="center" where is td align="center" valign="top" where is div align="left" where is div align="center" where is p align="left" Page 076 where is p align="center" where is strong CHITTERLOW where is p align="justify" `Some people like it that way,' said Cahitterlow; and then with voluminous emphasis, `I don't.' Emboldened by what is weakened state of his enemy, Kipps promptly swallowed what is rest of him, and had his glass at once hospitably replenished. He began to feel he was of a firmer consistency than he commonly believed, and turned his mind to what Chitterlow was saying with what is resolve to play a larger part in what is conversation than he had hitherto done. Also he smoked through his nose quite successfully, an art he had only very recently acquired. Meanwhile, Chitterlow explained that he was a playwright, and the tongue of Kipps was unloosened to respond that he knew a chap or rather one of their fellows knew a chap, or at least, to be perfectly, correct this fellow's brother did, who had written a play. In response to Chitterlow's inquiries, he could not recall what is title of the play, nor where it had appeared, nor what is name of what is manager who produced it, though he thought what is title was something about `Love's Ransom,' or something like that. `He made five 'undred pounds by it, though,' said Kipps. `I know that.' `That's nothing,' said Chitterlow, with an air of experience that was extremely convincing, `Nothing. May seem a big sum to you, but I can assure you it's just what one gets any day. There's any amount of money, an-ny amount, in a good play.' `I dessay,' said Kipps, drinking. `Any amount of money!' Chitterlow began a series of illustrative instances. He was clearly a person of quite unequalled gift for monologue. It was as though some conversational dam had burst upon Kipps, and in a little while he was drifting along upon a copious rapid of talk about all sorts of theatrical things by one who knew all about thern, and quite incapable of anticipating whither that rapid meant to carry him. Presently, somehow, they had got toanecdotes about well-known theatrical managers-little Teddy Bletherskite, artful old Chumps and what is magnificent Behemoth, `petted to what time is it , you know, fair sickened, by all these society women.' Chitterlow described various personal encounters with these personages, always with modest self-depreciation, and gave Kipps a very amusing imita where is Server.Execute("_SiteMap.asp") % travel books: Kipps (1905) books

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