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The Sea Lady

Chapter 6 No.6

Word Count: 1025    |    Released on: 01/12/2017

t least they positively succeeded in converting the Sea Lady into a credible human invalid, in spite of the gal

to a rising journalist who was sitting about on the Leas maturing a descriptive article. The rising journalist was incredulous. But he went about enquiring. In the end he thought

al papers when confronted by the abnormal, but the atmosphere of enterprise that surrounded the rising journalist woke them up. He perceived he had done so and that he had no time to lose. So while they engaged in

hing up," he said. "Ge

The Daily Gunfire was sceptical but precise, and t

hopeless exposure to both the Buntings and the Sea Lady. Already they could see the story spreading, could imagine the imminent rush of intimate enquiries, the tripod strides of a multitude of cameras, the crowds watching the windows, the horrors of a great publicity. All the Buntings and Mabel were aghast, simply aghast. Adeline was not so much aghast as excessively anno

raphs in the papers," sai

her sister. "It's horrid. I shall go

interview

. Bunting terrifi

e, my dear," sa

Ded-" s

t," said M

ll 'em anyhow," said Mrs. Bun

ailed the Sea Lady, with the Daily Gun

w our journali

like myself are apt at times to be very free and outspoken about the press. He heard of the Buntings' shrinking terror of publicity as soon as he

tuation all the same. You're too hopeless. We must put our foot down at once; that's all. Let me see t

said

ne that will sto

altog

oget

rs. Bunting. "You're n

"We're not in France. You c

er went around from th

me," said Melvill

but not very confident wish

the thing

ny, being, so to speak, emergency journalists, compositors in their milder moments, and unaccustomed to these higher aspe

ing you in," said my cousin Mel

emergency journalists. "We knew it was some sort of ho

Banghurst-" said

s well," said the older of t

ried my cousin with a ringing scorn. "Surely you're not g

ome about?" began the ol

not my

oduced a note book from his breast pocket. "Perhaps, sir,

Melville

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