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Wells, H. G. (Herbert George), 1866-1946

"Tono Bungay"

Then she dived straight for the cab before I could answer her.
My uncle followed, and he seemed to me a trifle too valiant and
confident in his bearing for reality. He was unusually white in the
face. He spoke to his successor at the counter. "Here we go!" he said.
"One down, the other up. You'll find it a quiet little business so long
as you run it on quiet lines--a nice quiet little business. There's
nothing more? No? Well, if you want to know anything write to me. I'll
always explain fully. Anything--business, place or people. You'll find
Pil Antibil. a little overstocked by-the-by, I found it soothed my mind
the day before yesterday making 'em, and I made 'em all day. Thousands!
And where's George? Ah! there you are! I'll write to you, George, FULLY,
about all that affair. Fully!"
It became clear to me as if for the first time, that I was really
parting from my aunt Susan. I went out on to the pavement and saw her
head craned forward, her wide-open blue eyes and her little face intent
on the shop that had combined for her all the charms of a big doll's
house and a little home of her very own.


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