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Jacobs, W. W., 1863-1943

"Dialstone Lane, Complete"

"
Before Mr. Vickers could frame a reply a squeaking which put all the
others in the shade sounded from above. It crossed the floor on hurried
excursions to different parts of the room, and then, hesitating for a
moment at the head of the stairs, came slowly and ponderously down until
Mrs. Vickers, looking somewhat nervous, stood revealed before her
expectant husband. In scornful surprise he gazed at a blue cloth dress,
a black velvet cape trimmed with bugles, and a bonnet so aggressively new
that it had not yet accommodated itself to Mrs. Vickers's style of
hair-dressing.
"Go on!" he breathed. "Go on! Don't mind me. What, you--you--you're
not going to church?"
Mrs. Vickers glanced at the books in her hand--also new--and trembled.
"And why not?" demanded Selina. "Why shouldn't we?"
Mr. Vickers took another amazed glance round and his brow darkened.
"Where did you get the money?" he inquired.
"Saved it," said his daughter, reddening despite herself.
"Saved it?" repeated the justly-astonished Mr. Vickers. "Saved it? Ah!
out of my money; out of the money I toil and moil for--out of the money
that ought to be spent on food. No wonder you're always complaining that
it ain't enough.


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