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“Miss Mackintosh waved her arms wildly."Oh, please stop, and let me guess," she cried. "I shall go crazy with joy if I'm right. It was an old Peerage, and so she found that Lady Deal was Helena Herman--""Whom she had seen ten years ago at a music hall as a male impersonator," cried Diva."And didn't want to know her," interrupted Miss Mackintosh."Yes, that's it, but that is not all. I hope you won't mind, but it's too rich. She saw you this morning coming out of your house in your bath-chair, and was quite sure that you were that Lady Deal."The three ladies rocked with laughter. Sometimes one recovered, and sometimes two, but they were re-infected by the third, and so they went on, solo and chorus, and duet and chorus, till exhaustion set in."But there's still a mystery," said Diva at length, wiping her eyes. "Why did the Peerage say that Lady Deal was Helena Herman?""Oh, that's the last Lady Deal," said Miss Mackintosh. "Helena Herman's Lord Deal died without children and Florence's Lord Deal, my Lady Deal, succeeded. Cousins.""If that isn't a lesson for Elizabeth Mapp," said Diva. "Better go to the expense of a new Peerage than make such a muddle. But what a long call we've made. We must go.""Florence shall hear every word of it to-morrow night," said Miss Mackintosh. "I promise not to tell her till then. We'll all tell her.""Oh, that is kind of you," said Diva."It's only fair. And what about Miss Mapp being told?""She'll find it out by degrees," said the ruthless Diva. "It will hurt more in bits.""Oh, but she mustn't be hurt," said Miss Mackintosh. "She's too precious, I adore her.""So do we," said Diva. "But we like her to be found out occasionally. You will, too, when you know her.”
E.F. Benson“I just wish moments weren’t so fleeting!' Isaac called to the man on the roof, 'They pass so quickly!' 'Fleeting?!' responded the tilling man, 'Moments? They pass quickly?! . . . Why, once a man is finished growing, he still has twenty years of youth. After that, he has twenty years of middle age. Then, unless misfortune strikes, nature gives him twenty thoughtful years of old age. Why do you call that quickly?' And with that, the tilling man wiped his sweaty brow and continued tilling; and the dejected Isaac continued wandering. 'Stupid fool!' Isaac muttered quietly to himself as soon as he was far enough away not to be heard.”
Roman Payne, Hope and Despair“No race can prosper till it learns that there is as much dignity in tilling a field as in writing a poem.”
Booker T. Washington“Now Miss Mapp's social dictatorship among the ladies of Tilling had long been paramount, but every now and then signs of rebellious upheavals showed themselves. By virtue of her commanding personality these had never assumed really serious proportions, for Diva, who was generally the leader in these uprisings, had not the same moral massiveness. But now when Elizabeth was so exceedingly superior, the fumes of Bolshevism mounted swiftly to Diva's head. Moreover, the sight of this puzzling male impersonator, old, wrinkled, and moustached, had kindled to a greater heat her desire to know her and learn what it felt like to be Romeo on the music-hall stage and, after years of that delirious existence, to subside into a bath-chair and Suntrap and Tilling. What a wonderful life! . . . And behind all this there was a vague notion that Elizabeth had got her information in some clandestine manner and had muddled it. For all her clear-headedness and force Elizabeth did sometimes make a muddle and it would be sweeter than honey and the honeycomb to catch her out. So in a state of brooding resentment Diva went home to lunch and concentrated on how to get even with Elizabeth.”
E.F. Benson, Miss Mapp“There is as much dignity in tilling a field as in writing a poem.”
Booker T. Washington“As the Athenians to the Pnyx, the antique Romans to the Campus Martius, or our Nordic ancestors to the All-Thing, so the folk of Tilling flocked to the High Street for extempore parliament.”
Tom Holt, Lucia Triumphant“Sirs, if you are listening and are not acting, it is like a man who is always tilling but never sowing. It is better not to listen to a truth than to listen without acting, for then it becomes a poison.”
Jiddu Krishnamurti“He puts his arm around me, the lights dancing on his dark skin constantly skipping across to mine, planting a myriad of emotions into each pore as if preparing my heart for tilling.”
Poppet, Aisyx“You mean it's to be peace between you and Elizabeth until after the Tapestry?" cried Georgie, horrified. The prospect of a cessation of hostilities was appalling, for this warfare provided him with the excitement that no other occupation could hope to offer. "Isn't that a bit drastic?”
Tom Holt, Lucia Triumphant