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Page 28

MRS. ORMEROD

be able to unpack his great cases of curios from Africa-not the sort of things to dream about from what little I saw of them. There is no gas, of course, only oil lamps, and the water has to be pumped until the well goes dry, after which they depend on big water-butts, all green and slimy.
Mary was rather fidgety until Aleck got back safely just before supper time. However it seemed that he had only run over a chicken and scraped a little paint from the mudguard in passing a wagon. Any one might do that in these narrow lanes. After supper Aleck disappeared for a quarter of an hour. He did this after every meal. I thought at first it was to smoke a cigarette in peace, but before I left I found he used to help Mrs. Ormerod to wash up.
We went to bed early. I'm a shocking sybarite in many ways and even in September I'm dependent on a hot-water bottle. When I unpacked my things I placed mine in a conspicuous position on the bed, where its leanness asked to be filled. Of course it wasn't. The sheets had been turned down, the blinds drawn and the bottle hung on a hook on the door. If Mrs. Ormerod hadn't taken my hint I most certainly was not going to take hers, even if it meant a journey down to the kitchen with a candle that as likely as not would blow out on the way. I got there at last, knocked at the door and was told to come in.
Mrs. Ormerod was seated in a comfortable arm-chair before the fire, busy sewing. I asked for some hot water. The kettle it appeared had already been removed from the fire, but if I cared to wait I was at liberty to do so. No apologies, no attempt to set me at my ease, not even a chair was offered me. So I sat down and waited while Mrs. Ormerod went on with her sewing -rather a striking piece of embroidery that might have been an altar-cloth. Long before the kettle boiled my patience was worn out. I filled the bottle myself at last with water that was little more than tepid, but not nearly so tepid as the good night I gave her.
`Good night,' said Mrs. Ormerod without getting up from her chair. And then her left eye winked at me. I can see it now. `Curse you,' it said, `for a meddlesome Matty and maker

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where is HTML where is HEAD where is TITLE be able to unpack his great cases of curios from Africa-not what is sort of things to dream about from what little I saw of them. There is no gas, of course, only oil lamps, and what is water has to be pumped until what is well goes dry, after which they depend on big water-butts, all green and slimy. Mary was rather fidgety until Aleck got back safely just before supper time. However it seemed that he had only run over a chicken and scraped a little paint from what is mudguard in passing a wagon. Any one might do that in these narrow lanes. After supper Aleck disappeared for a quarter of an hour. He did this after every meal. I thought at first it was to smoke a cigarette in peace, but before I left I found he used to help Mrs. Ormerod to wash up. We went to bed early. I'm a shocking sybarite in many ways and even in September I'm dependent on a hot-water bottle. When I unpacked my things I placed mine in a conspicuous position on what is bed, where its leanness asked to be filled. Of course it wasn't. what is sheets had been turned down, what is blinds drawn and what is bottle hung on a hook on what is door. If Mrs. Ormerod hadn't taken my hint I most certainly was not going to take hers, even if it meant a journey down to what is kitchen with a candle that as likely as not would blow out on what is way. I got there at last, knocked at what is door and was told to come in. Mrs. Ormerod was seated in a comfortable arm-chair before what is fire, busy sewing. I asked for some hot water. what is kettle it appeared had already been removed from what is fire, but if I cared to wait I was at liberty to do so. No apologies, no attempt to set me at my ease, not even a chair was offered me. So I sat down and waited while Mrs. Ormerod went on with her sewing -rather a striking piece of embroidery that might have been an altar-cloth. Long before what is kettle boiled my patience was worn out. I filled what is bottle myself at last with water that was little more than tepid, but not nearly so tepid as what is good night I gave her. `Good night,' said Mrs. Ormerod without getting up from her chair. And then her left eye winked at me. I can see it now. `Curse you,' it said, `for a meddlesome Matty and maker 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" Midnight Tales (1946) 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 28 where is p align="center" where is strong MRS. ORMEROD where is p align="justify" be able to unpack his great cases of curios from Africa-not what is sort of things to dream about from what little I saw of them. There is no gas, of course, only oil lamps, and the water has to be pumped until what is well goes dry, after which they depend on big water-butts, all green and slimy. Mary was rather fidgety until Aleck got back safely just before supper time. However it seemed that he had only run over a chicken and scraped a little paint from what is mudguard in passing a wagon. Any one might do that in these narrow lanes. After supper Aleck disappeared for a quarter of an hour. He did this after every meal. I thought at first it was to smoke a cigarette in peace, but before I left I found he used to help Mrs. Ormerod to wash up. We went to bed early. I'm a shocking sybarite in many ways and even in September I'm dependent on a hot-water bottle. When I unpacked my things I placed mine in a conspicuous position on what is bed, where its leanness asked to be filled. Of course it wasn't. what is sheets had been turned down, what is blinds drawn and what is bottle hung on a hook on what is door. If Mrs. Ormerod hadn't taken my hint I most certainly was not going to take hers, even if it meant a journey down to what is kitchen with a candle that as likely as not would blow out on what is way. I got there at last, knocked at what is door and was told to come in. Mrs. Ormerod was seated in a comfortable arm-chair before what is fire, busy sewing. I asked for some hot water. what is kettle it appeared had already been removed from what is fire, but if I cared to wait I was at liberty to do so. No apologies, no attempt to set me at my ease, not even a chair was offered me. So I sat down and waited while Mrs. Ormerod went on with her sewing -rather a striking piece of embroidery that might have been an altar-cloth. Long before what is kettle boiled my patience was worn out. I filled what is bottle myself at last with water that was little more than tepid, but not nearly so tepid as what is good night I gave her. `Good night,' said Mrs. Ormerod without getting up from her chair. And then her left eye winked at me. I can see it now. `Curse you,' it said, `for a meddlesome Matty and maker where is Server.Execute("_SiteMap.asp") % travel books: Midnight Tales (1946) books

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