“Cometotellusabouteverything，Mr。Pond’revo？”someonewouldsaypolitely。
“Youwait。”myuncleusedtoanswer，disconcerted，andsulkfortherestofhisvisit。
Orsomeonewithanimmenseairofinnocencewouldremarktotheworldgenerally，“They’retalkin’ofrebuildin’Wimblehurstalloveragain，I’mtold。Anybodyheardanythingofit？Goingtomakeitareg’larsmartgoin’，enterprisin’place——kindofCrystalPallas。”
“Earthquakeandapestilencebeforeyougetthat。”myunclewouldmutter，totheinfinitedelightofeveryone，andaddsomethinginaudibleabout“ColdMuttonFat。”。
WeweretornapartbyafinancialaccidenttomyuncleofwhichI