Download E-books Still William (Just William, Book 5) PDF

By Richmal Crompton

‘If all women are like that -’ stated William. ‘Well, for those who reflect on the entire hundreds and hundreds of women there has to be on the planet – good, it makes you're feeling sick.’ William’s typical wish to do the correct factor leads him into critical difficulty, as ordinary, and while blackmail and kidnapping are concerned, it’s no shock. even if he turns over a brand new leaf, the implications are dire. yet it’s his new neighbour Violet Elizabeth Bott who particularly reasons chaos – and not anyone will think that it’s no longer William’s fault . . .

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He organised an exhilarating naval conflict with them and was once virtually forgetting his grudge opposed to lifestyles in most cases and yuletide specifically . . . He was once roused to the feel of the current via sounds of lifestyles and move downstairs, and, thrusting his saintly paper fleet into his pyjama case, he went all the way down to the drawing-room. As he entered there got here the sound of a motor vehicle drawing up on the entrance door and Uncle Frederick seemed out of the window and groaned aloud. ‘It’s woman Atkinson,’ he stated. ‘Help! support! ’ ‘Now, Frederick, dear,’ stated Aunt Emma swiftly. ‘Don’t speak like that and do you need to be great to her. She’s one of many Atkinson’s, you know,’ she defined with empressement to Mrs Brown in a whisper because the woman used to be proven in. girl Atkinson was once stout and aged and wore a really younger hat and coat. ‘A satisfied Christmas to you all! ’ she stated graciously. ‘The boy? Your nephew? William? How do you do, William? He – stares particularly, doesn’t he? Ah, yes,’ she greeted all people individually with countless condescension. ‘I’ve introduced you my Christmas found in person,’ she went on within the tone of voice of 1 giving an unheard-of-treat. ‘Look! ’ She took out of an envelope a wide signed picture of herself. ‘There now . . . what do you're thinking that of that? ’ Murmurs of shock and admiration and gratitude. woman Atkinson drank them in complacently. ‘It’s excellent, isn’t it? You . . . little boy . . . don’t you're thinking that it’s very similar to me? ’ William gazed at it significantly. ‘It’s no longer as fats as you are,’ was once his ultimate delivering on the altar of fact. ‘William! ’ screamed Mrs Brown, ‘how are you able to be so rude? ’ ‘Impolite? ’ acknowledged William with a few indignation. ‘I’m no longer tryin’ to be well mannered! I’m bein’ fair. I can’t be every thing. turns out to me I’m the one individual on this planet what's fair an’ nobody appears thankful to me. It isn’t ’s fats as what she is,’ he went on doggedly, ‘an’ it’s now not bought as many little traces on its face as what she has an’ it’s different-lookin’ altogether. It seems to be lovely an’ she doesn’t—’ woman Atkinson towered over him, quivering with rage. ‘You nasty little boy! ’ she stated thrusting her face on the subject of his. ‘You – NASTY – little – boy! ’ Then she swept out of the room with no one other observe. front door slammed. She was once long past. Aunt Emma sat down and started to weep. ‘She’ll by no means come to the home again,’ she acknowledged. ‘I continually stated he should be hung,’ acknowledged Robert gloomily. ‘Every day we allow him stay he complicates our lives nonetheless worse. ’ ‘I shall inform your father, William,’ acknowledged Mrs Brown, ‘directly we get domestic. ’ ‘The kindest factor to think,’ acknowledged Ethel, ‘is that he’s mad. ’ ‘Well,’ stated William, ‘I don’ understand what I’ve performed ’cept solid apart deceit an’ – an’ the opposite factor what he acknowledged in church an’ converse the reality an’ that. I don’ understand why everyone’s so mad at me jus’ ’cause of that. You’d imagine they’d be completely satisfied! ’ ‘DON’T you're thinking that IT’S much like ME? ’ requested woman ATKINSON. ‘IT’S no longer AS fats AS YOU ARE,’ acknowledged WILLIAM, seriously. ‘I’M no longer rude. I’M BEING fair. ’ ‘She’ll by no means set foot in the home again,’ sobbed Aunt Emma.

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