dBooks desire

``You see what an ignorant creature he is,'' said he.
``He imagines he has done the thing up in grand style.
He's the sort of man that can't be taught manners
because he thinks manners, the ordinary civilities, are for
the lower orders of people. Oh, he's a joke, is Bill
Siddall--a horrible joke.''
Mrs. Presbury read and passed the letter to Mildred.
She simply glanced at it and returned it to her step-father.
``I'm just about over that last dinner,'' pursued
Presbury. ``I'll eat little Thursday and drink less.
And I'd advise you to do the same, Mrs. Presbury.''
He always addressed her as ``Mrs. Presbury''
because he had discovered that when so addressed she
always winced, and, if he put a certain tone into his voice,
she quivered.
``That dinner aged you five years,'' he went on.
``Besides, you drank so much that it went to your head
and made you slather him with flatteries that irritated
him. He thought you were a fool, and no one is stupid
enough to like to be flattered by a fool.


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