Тарзан, приёмыш обезьян
Conclusion
Theyweresittinginthelittle,stuffyparlorwhenthedistantchuggingofanapproachingautomobilecaughttheirattention.
Mr.Philander,whowassittingnearthewindow,lookedoutasthecardrewinsight,finallystoppingbesidetheotherautomobiles.
"Blessme!"saidMr.Philander,ashadeofannoyanceinhistone."ItisMr.Canler.Ihadhoped,er—Ihadthoughtor—er—howveryhappyweshouldbethathewasnotcaughtinthefire,"heendedlamely.
"Tut,tut!Mr.Philander,"saidProfessorPorter."Tut,tut!Ihaveoftenadmonishedmypupilstocounttenbeforespeaking.WereIyou,Mr.Philander,Ishouldcountatleastathousand,andthenmaintainadiscreetsilence."
"Blessme,yes!"acquiescedMr.Philander."Butwhoistheclericalappearinggentlemanwithhim?"
Janeblanched.
Claytonmoveduneasilyinhischair.
ProfessorPorterremovedhisspectaclesnervously,andbreatheduponthem,butreplacedthemonhisnosewithoutwiping.
TheubiquitousEsmeraldagrunted.
OnlyTarzandidnotcomprehend.
PresentlyRobertCanlerburstintotheroom.
"ThankGod!"hecried."Ifearedtheworst,untilIsawyourcar,Clayton.Iwascutoffonthesouthroadandhadtogoawaybacktotown,andthenstrikeeasttothisroad.Ithoughtwe’dneverreachthecottage.
