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Wells, H. G. (Herbert George), 1866-1946

"The Wheels of Chance: a Bicycling Idyll"

There were five men
in the room altogether: a fat person, with a long pipe and a
great number of chins, in an armchair by the fireplace, who
wished Mr. Hoopdriver a good evening very affably; a young fellow
smoking a cutty and displaying crossed legs with gaiters ; a
little, bearded man with a toothless laugh; a middle-aged,
comfortable man with bright eyes, who wore a velveteen jacket;
and a fair young man, very genteel in a yellowish-brown
ready-made suit and a white tie.
"H'm," said Mr. Hoopdriver, looking very stern and harsh. And
then in a forbidding tone, as one who consented to no liberties,
"Good evening."
"Very pleasant day we've been 'aving," said the fair young man
with the white tie.
"Very," said Mr. Hoopdriver, slowly; and taking a brown armchair,
he planted it with great deliberation where he faced the
fireplace, and sat down. Let's see--how did that speech begin?
"Very pleasant roads about here," said the fair young man with
the white tie.
"Very," said Mr. Hoopdriver, eyeing him darkly. Have to begin
somehow. "The roads about here are all right, and the weather
about here is all right, but what I've come in here to say
is--there's some damned unpleasant people--damned unpleasant
people!"
"Oh!" said the young man with the gaiters, apparently making a
mental inventory of his pearl buttons as he spoke. "How's that?"
Mr. Hoopdriver put his hands on his knees and stuck out his
elbows with extreme angularity. In his heart he was raving at his
idiotic folly at thus bearding these lions,--indisputably they
WERE lions,--but he had to go through with it now.


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