'The earth was open, you know.'
'I tell you she didn't. You weren't there, and you can't know. I'm
sure it was a vixen by her running. We ought to have killed that
fox, my Lord.' Then Mrs Spooner made her obeisance to her
hostess. Perhaps she was rather slow in doing this, but the
greatness of the subject had been the cause. These are matters so
important, that the ordinary civilities of the world should not
stand in their way.
'What do you say, Chiltern?' asked the husband.
'I say that Mrs Spooner isn't very often wrong, and the Dick
Rabbit isn't very often right about a fox.'
'It was a pretty run,' said Phineas.
'Just thirty-four minutes,' said Mr Spooner.
'Thirty-two up to Grobby Gorse,' asserted Mrs Spooner. 'The hounds
never hunted a yard after that. Dick hurried them into the gorse,
and the old hound wouldn't stick to her line when she found that
no one believed her.'
This was on Monday evening, and the Brake hounds went out
generally five days a week. 'You'll hunt tomorrow, I suppose,'
Lady Chiltern said to Silverbridge.
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