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The Project Gutenberg EBook of Blundell's Improvement, by W.W. Jacobs This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.net Title: Blundell's Improvement Odd Craft, Part 3. Author: W.W. Jacobs Release Date: April 29, 2004 [EBook #12203] Language: English Character set encoding: ASCII *** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BLUNDELL'S IMPROVEMENT *** Produced by David Widger ODD CRAFT By W.W. Jacobs BLUNDELL'S IMPROVEMENT Venia Turnbull in a quiet, unobtrusive fashion was enjoying herself. The cool living-room at Turnbull's farm was a delightful contrast to the hot sunshine without, and the drowsy humming of bees floating in at the open window was charged with hints of slumber to the middle-aged. From her seat by the window she watched with amused interest the efforts of her father--kept from his Sunday afternoon nap by the assiduous attentions of her two admirers--to maintain his politeness. "Father was so pleased to see you both come in," she said, softly; "it's very dull for him here of an afternoon with only me." [Illustration: "Father was so pleased to see you both come in," she said, softly."] "I can't imagine anybody being dull with only you," said Sergeant Dick Daly, turning a bold brown eye upon her. Mr. John Blundell scowled; this was the third time the sergeant had said the thing that he would have liked to say if he had thought of it. "I don't mind being dull," remarked Mr. Turnbull, casually. Neither gentleman made any comment. "I like it," pursued Mr. Turnbull, longingly; "always did, from a child." The two young men looked at each other; then they looked at Venia; the sergeant assumed an expression of careless ease, while John Blundell sat his chair like a human limpet. Mr. Turnbull almost groaned as he remembered his tenacity. "The garden's looking very nice," he said, with a pathetic glance round. "Beautiful," assented the sergeant. "I saw it yesterday." "Some o' the roses on that big bush have opened a bit more since then," said the farmer. Sergeant Daly expressed his gratification, and said that he was not surprised. It was only ten days since he had arrived in the village on a visit to a relative, but in that short space of
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