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The Salamanca Corpus: Yeoman Fleetwood (1900 ... - Gredos

The Salamanca Corpus: Yeoman Fleetwood (1900 ... - Gredos

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<strong>The</strong> <strong>Salamanca</strong> <strong>Corpus</strong>: <strong>Yeoman</strong> <strong>Fleetwood</strong> (<strong>1900</strong>)<br />

“Never, if I can possibly help it. Our coachbuilders are terribly behind the age. Why<br />

cannot they invent steps that would fold up outside?"<br />

“Why do not you set your mighty intellect to work and bring out the patent yourself?"<br />

retorted she. "But I am going in your sedan, Mr. Brummel: pray help me in."<br />

In another moment she was seated among the white satin cushions, and amid a general<br />

outcry the chairmen prepared to start<br />

[340]<br />

“Stop, Stop!" cried the umpire. “It was understood that Brummel was to be earned in his<br />

own chair. He must be as heavy again as Miss Charnock."<br />

“Rachel!" screamed Lady Susan, with her head out of the coach window, “come here<br />

instantly! I'll not stand this piece of buffoonery. What have you to do with Mr.<br />

Brummel's chair?"<br />

"Why, I mean to sit in it, that's all!" said Rachel with a saucy nod and wave of the hand.<br />

“Deuce take me if it's fair though!" cried Lincoln Stanhope.<br />

“Stanhope, my boy, I am surprised at such unseemly agitation," remarked Brummel. "I<br />

beg to observe, Cranley, that till now there has been no stipulation made as to the<br />

person who is to occupy the chair. Surely, if Miss Charnock wishes it, she is entitled to<br />

do so"<br />

"I do wish it," asserted Rachel, and, leaning forward, she smiled upon the by-standers<br />

with magical effect. <strong>The</strong>re was another murmur, but this time of approval and applause.<br />

"Come," cried Lady Susan impatiently, "I for one cannot stay here all night. If that<br />

obstinate little cat refuses to accompany me you had better come, Mr. Brummel, and<br />

you too, Tommy. At least I shall be able to keep my eye upon you and see that you do<br />

not bribe my coachman."<br />

She had already recovered her good-humour, and her ringing laugh was heard as Lord<br />

Cranley climbed into the vehicle, followed by Mr. Brummel, who uttered a groan of<br />

disgust as the steps were drawn up after him. Cranley, removing his toothpick, leaned<br />

solemnly out of the window:—<br />

"Are you ready, men?" he cried. "Get the chair into position, and start as soon as I<br />

whistle."

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