Huge strains at spasmodic intervals, separated by periods in which he
lies fallow in sloth, add nothing to his capacity for endurance; it is
by the tally of each minute of his preparation that you may read how
he will acquit himself against the test. Thus also with the shaping of
character, and thus was Mr. Marrapit, collected in minor affairs,
mighty in this crisis.
IX.
Turning from the door he marched steadily across the hall towards the
stairs to arouse George.
At the lowermost step a movement on the landing above made him pause.
He was to be spared the trouble. Placing the candle upon a table he
looked up. He spoke. "George!"
"Wash it?" said a voice. "Wash it?"
"Wash nothing," Mr. Marrapit commanded. "Who is this?"
The answer, starting low, ascended a shrill scale: "Wash it? Wash it?
Wash it?"
"Silence!" Mr. Marrapit answered. "Descend!"
He craned upwards. The curl-papered head of Mrs. Major poked at him
over the banisters.
"Darling," breathed Mrs. Major. "Darling--_um!_"
"Mrs. Major! What is this?"
"Thash what _I_ want to know," said Mrs. Major coquettishly.
"Wash it? Wash _ish_ it?"
"You are distraught, Mrs. Major. Have no fear. To your room."
The curl-papered head waggled. Mrs. Major beamed. "Darling. Darling--
um!"
"Exercise control," Mr.
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