Tootle, and was lost to sight.
There was indeed a desperate uproar in the higher regions of the
house. In a moment the noise increased considerably. O'Gree had
rushed up without a light, and was battling desperately in the
darkness with a score of pillow-fighters, roaring out threats the
while at the top of his voice. Mrs. Tootle retired from the masters'
room with much affectation of dignity, leaving the door open behind
her.
Waymark slammed it to, and turned with a laugh to the poor Swiss.
"In low spirits to-night, I'm afraid, Mr. Egger?"
Egger let his chair tilt forward, rose slowly, drew a yellow
handkerchief from his mouth and wiped his eyes with it, then
exclaimed, in the most pitiful voice--
"Mr. Waymark, I have made my possible!--I can no more!"
It was his regular phrase on these occasions; Waymark had always
much ado to refrain from laughter when he heard it repeated, but he
did his best to be seriously sympathetic, and to attempt consolation
in such German as was at his command. Egger's despondency only
increased, and he wept afresh to hear accents which were
intelligible to him. Mr. O'Gree re-entered the room, and the Swiss
retired to his comer.
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