Book account

He was so stupendously rich and so completely awed
by the importance of being acquainted with Mrs. Force that he became a
most desirable neighbour, from that lady's point of view. She
experienced a great deal of pleasure in association with a man who
could be made to feel as small as he gave every sign of being when in
her august presence. It was really a joy to her. With all his money,
he could not induce his wife's gowns to hang as Mrs. Force's hung; he
could not make her boots fit as neatly, nor her hats sit as naturally;
he could not buy style or majesty for Mrs. Bingle. So he was the kind
of neighbour to have. Any woman will tell you that.
Diggs was telling Watson, the footman, just where to put the
mistletoe. Watson's position was precarious. He was at the top of a
step-ladder, struggling to reach the lowest crystal pendant on the
enormous chandelier, and the ladder was wobbling.
"It's all tommy-rot," muttered Watson, apropos of nothing that had
gone before.
"Wot's all tommy-rot?" demanded Mr. Diggs severely.
"Christmas Eve," said Watson.


Pages:
108 109 110 111 112 113 114 115 116 117 118 119 120 121 122 123 124 125 126 127 128 129 130 131 132