Ravenslee, smiling.
"My land!" exclaimed Mrs. Trapes, and vanished again.
Mr. Ravenslee was sighing over a hideously striped shirt when Mrs.
Trapes was back again, flourishing a very large tablespoon.
"Mr. Geoffrey," said she, "it's nigh forty years since any one bought me
a box o' chocolates! An' now they look so cute all done up in them gold
an' silver wrappings as I don't wanter eat 'em--seems a sin, it do.
But--Mr. Geoffrey I--I'd like to--thank ye--" and lo, she was gone
again!
Mr. Ravenslee had just pitched the striped shirt out of the window when
behold, Mrs. Trapes was back yet once more, this time grasping a much
battered but more bepolished dish cover.
"Mr. Geoffrey," said she, "I ain't good at thankin' folks, no, I ain't
much on gratitood--never having had much to gratify over--but them
candies is goin' to be consoomed slow an' reverent and in a proper
sperrit o' gratitood. And now if you're ready to eat your supper, your
supper's a-waitin' to be ate!"
So saying, she led the way into the parlour, where upon a snowy cloth,
in a dish tastefully garnished with fried tomatoes, the English mutton
chop reposed, making the very most of itself; the which Mr.
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