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"Right O. But you won't see any more of Uncle Jim for a bit. We've
been having a conversazione about that."
"
I believe it is Uncle Jim," said the little girl.
Then he can wait," said Mr. Polly shortly.
"
He turned round and listened for the words that drifted across from
the little figure on the opposite bank. So far as he could judge,
Uncle Jim was making an appointment for the morrow. He replied with a
defiant movement of the punt pole. The little figure was convulsed for
a moment and then went on its way upstream--fiercely.
So it was the first campaign ended in an insecure victory.
IX
The next day was Wednesday and a slack day for the Potwell Inn. It was
a hot, close day, full of the murmuring of bees. One or two people
crossed by the ferry, an elaborately equipped fisherman stopped for
cold meat and dry ginger ale in the bar parlour, some haymakers came
and drank beer for an hour, and afterwards sent jars and jugs by a boy
to be replenished; that was all. Mr. Polly had risen early and was
busy about the place meditating upon the probable tactics of Uncle
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