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The Lost World | Arthur Conan Doyle | |
I Was The Flail Of The Lord |
Page 2 of 6 |
"Well," said he, at last, "we've gone and done it, young fellah my lad." (This curious phrase he pronounced as if it were all one word--"young-fellah-me-lad.") "Yes, we've taken a jump, you an' me. I suppose, now, when you went into that room there was no such notion in your head--what?" "No thought of it." "The same here. No thought of it. And here we are, up to our necks in the tureen. Why, I've only been back three weeks from Uganda, and taken a place in Scotland, and signed the lease and all. Pretty goin's on--what? How does it hit you?" "Well, it is all in the main line of my business. I am a journalist on the Gazette." "Of course--you said so when you took it on. By the way, I've got a small job for you, if you'll help me." "With pleasure." "Don't mind takin' a risk, do you?" "What is the risk?" "Well, it's Ballinger--he's the risk. You've heard of him?" "No." |
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