And now you wonder, Mr.Meeson, that respectable people will have nothing to do with you! Well, now, I tell you, _my_ opinion is that the only society to which you would be really suited is that of cow-hide.

Good morning," and the large young man walked off, his very moustachios curling with wrath and contempt.

Thus, for a second time, did the great Mr.Meeson hear the truth from the lips of babes and sucklings, and the worst of it was that he could not disinherit Number Two as he had Number One.
Now this will strike the reader as being very warm advocacy on the part of Mr.Tombey, who, being called in to console and bless, cursed with such extraordinary vigour.

It may even strike the discerning reader--and all readers, or, at least, nearly all readers, are of course discerning: far too much so, indeed--that there must have been a reason for it; and the discerning reader will be right.

Augusta's grey eyes had been too much for Mr.Tombey, as they had been too much for Eustace Meeson before him.