The spinsters had purchased one grass-linen tablecloth; the girl and the young man had purchased nothing. Stanley’s pace slackened. His tie had demanded a struggle; he ought to have taken a clean one after his first failure. He opened it—just off-hand, and then when he saw what it was he hit at the table and sent his soup spoon flying and splashing on to the tablecloth. Wood, and however he might dissent from the latter proposition, he did not deem it expedient to make any reply; and the orator proceeded with his harangue amid the general applause of the assemblage.
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