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Walpole, Hugh, Sir, 1884-1941

"The Golden Scarecrow"


His nurse, in a fine frenzy of agitation, met him. Her relief at his
safety swallowed her anger. She could only gasp at him. "Well, Master
Bim, and a nice state---- Oh, dear! to think; wherever----"
On the doorstep he forced his nurse to pause, and, turning, looked at
the gardens now in shadow of spun gold, with the fountain blue as the
sky. He nodded his head with satisfaction. It had been a splendid time.
It would be a very long while, he knew, before he was allowed out again
like that. Yes. He clasped the mug tightly, and the door closed behind
him.
I don't know that there is anything more to say. There were the empty
money-box and the mug. There was Bim's unhesitating and unchangeable
story. There _is_ a shop, just behind the Square, where they have some
Russian crockery. But Bim alone!
_I_ don't know.


CHAPTER V
NANCY ROSS

I
Mr. Munty Ross's house was certainly the smartest in March Square; No.
14, where the Duchess of Crole lived, was shabby in comparison. Very
often you may see a line of motor-cars and carriages stretching down the
Square, then round the corner into Lent Street, and you may know
then--as, indeed, all the Square did know and most carefully
observed--that Mrs.


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