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136
RUGGLES OF RED GAP
mixer" we departed. Not until we had reached the Floud home did he discover that he had quite forgotten to hand the press-chap Mrs. Effie's manuscript.
"Dog on the luck!" said he in his quaint tone of exasperation, "here I've went and forgot to give Mrs. Effie's piece to the editor." He sighed ruefully. "Well, to-morrow's another day."
And so the die was cast. To-morrow was indeed another day!
Yet I fell asleep on a memory of the evening that brought me a sort of shamed pleasure—that I had falsely borne the stick and gloves of Cousin Egbert. I knew they had given me rather an air.