238 GARRYOWEN 



" No, thank you, I don't want dolls. Sure, 

 what would I be doing with dolls at my age? No, 

 thank you, I don't smoke, and if I did I wouldn't 

 do it in a smoking-cap. No, thanks ; I just looked 

 in to see what was going on. I'm strange to the 

 place. I've only left Ireland the day before 

 yesterday, and it's half moidhered I am stiU with 

 me journey." 



As a gazelle by the banks of the Zambesi starts 

 from her couch of leaves at the voice of the leopard, 

 so Miss Grimshaw, at the sound of this voice, 

 started from the ledge of the fancy-work stall 

 and looked wildly round her. 



In the crowd, beset by two ardent spinsters, one 

 armed with a smoking-cap and the other with a 

 Teddy bear, she saw a bubble-faced gentleman 

 in grey tweeds. Almost with the same sweep of 

 the eye she caught a ghmpse of Bobby Dashwood 

 at the bran-pie corner. The wretched Bobby, in 

 his glory, was standing on a tub inviting speculators 

 to take a dip. Next moment she had reached 

 him, plucked him by the sleeve and was leading 

 him to the door. She did not speak till they were 

 in the porch, which was deserted. 



" Bobby— Mr Dashwood— he's here! " 



" Who? " 



" Mr Giveen " 



" Good God ! " said Mr Dashwood. " Giveen ! " 



" Yes. They're trying to sell him dolls. 

 Quick! we haven't a moment to waste! He 

 doesn't know you, does he? " 



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