No. I came on a business trip to England, leaving
my old dear out at the farm near Salisbury, with the kids--we've got
a nice English governess who helps her to look after 'em. A year or
two hence I hope to bring 'em over to see the old country and we may
have to put the eldest to school: children run wild so in South
Africa. As to Miss Warren, she's an old friend of mine and a very
dear one. I hadn't seen her for--for--thirteen years, when the sound
of her voice--She's got one of those voices you never forget--the
sound of her voice came up out of that beastly crowd of gladiators
yesterday, and I found her being hammered by two policemen. I pretty
well laid one out, though I hadn't used my fists for a matter of ten
years. Then I got knocked over myself, I passed a night in a police
cell feeling pretty sick and positively maddened at not being able
to ask any questions. Then at last morning came, I had a wash and
brush up--the police after all aren't bad chaps, and most of 'em
seemed jolly well ashamed of last night's doin's--Then I met Vivie
in Court and your husband too. He took me on trust and I'm awfully
grateful to him. I've got a dear old mater down in Kent--Margate,
don't you know--my dad's still alive, Vivie!--and she'd have been
awfully cut up at hearing her son had been spending the night in a
police cell and was goin' to be fined for rioting, only fortunately
the Home Secretary said we weren't to be punished.
Pages:
243
244
245
246
247
248
249
250
251
252
253
254
255
256
257
258
259
260
261
262
263
264
265
266
267