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Wilson, Harry Leon, 1867-1939

"Ruggles of Red Gap"


"One moment," said his lordship to the host. "Must pay my respects to
the dowager, what, what! Jolly old muggins, yes!" And he was gone.
I heard the Mixer's amazing presentation speech.
"Mrs. Kenner, Mr. Floud, his lordship--say, listen here, is your right
name Brinstead, or Basingwell, like your brother's?"
The Klondike person acknowledged the thing with a faintly gracious
nod. It carried an air, despite the slightness of it. Cousin Egbert
was more cordial.
"Pleased to meet you, Lord!" said he, and grasped the newcomer's hand.
"Come on, set in with us and have some coffee and a cigar. Here, Jeff,
bring the lord a good cigar. We was just talking about you that
minute. How do you like our town? Say, this here Kulanche Valley----" I
lost the rest. His lordship had seated himself. At his own table
Belknap-Jackson writhed acutely. He was lighting a second
cigarette--the first not yet a quarter consumed!
At once the four began to be thick as thieves, though it was apparent
his lordship had eyes only for the woman. Coffee was brought. His
lordship lighted his cigar. And now the word had so run from Mrs.
Belknap-Jackson that all eyes were drawn to this table. She had
created her sensation and it had become all at once more of one than
she had thought.


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