She had trouble outwitting him as he seemed to predict her words before he said them. “I’ve been thinking—all the afternoon. ‘Pen and paper, do you have them?’ ‘Danged if I have,’ came the truculent response. Get the pole out of your ass. A traffic of copious barges slumbered over the face of the river-barges either altogether stagnant or dreaming along in the wake of fussy tugs; and above circled, urbanely voracious, the London seagulls. “You, anyhow, don’t deserve it,” he said. " "You're not come here to insult me, Mr. " "You paint yourself worse than you are, dear Mrs.
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