They have also a maid, a valet, and a dog-cart, besides
no end of blankets, whips, rugs, canes, umbrellas, golf-sticks, and
tennis-bats. They have stolen up here, no doubt, to get away from their
friends, and they are having the happiest hours of their lives.
"Them two, sor," volunteers Fin, as we pass them lying under the willows
near my morning subject, "is as chuck-full of happiness as a hive's full
of bees. They was out in their boat yisterday, sor, in all that pour,
and it rolled off 'em same as a duck sheds water, and they laughin' so
ye'd think they'd split. What's dresses to them, sor, and her father?
Why, sor, he could buy and sell half Sonnin'. He's jist home from Africa
that chap is--or he was the week he was married--wid more lead inside
him than would sink a corpse. You kin see for yerself that he's made for
fightin'. Look at the eye on him!"
Then there is the solitary Englishman, who breakfasts by himself, and
has the morning paper laid beside his plate the moment the post-cart
arrives.
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