esteven (
esteven) wrote in
where_away2012-02-10 08:58 pm
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Steaks, Bread, Egg and lying between sheets
'Why, Stephen, there you are,' cried Jack. 'I was quite anxious for you.'
'Aye?' said Stephen, setting a cabbage-leaf parcel on the table and taking an egg from his pocket and a loaf from his bosom. 'I have brought a beef-steak to recruit you for your interview, and what passes for bread in these parts. I strongly urge you to take off your clothes, to sponge yourself all over - the copper will answer admirably -and to lie between sheets for an hour. Rested, shaved, coffee'd, steaked, you will be a different man.
Just for the Awwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww... and maybe a contribution or two for the wip ;D
(chapter six)
'Aye?' said Stephen, setting a cabbage-leaf parcel on the table and taking an egg from his pocket and a loaf from his bosom. 'I have brought a beef-steak to recruit you for your interview, and what passes for bread in these parts. I strongly urge you to take off your clothes, to sponge yourself all over - the copper will answer admirably -and to lie between sheets for an hour. Rested, shaved, coffee'd, steaked, you will be a different man.
Just for the Awwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww... and maybe a contribution or two for the wip ;D
(chapter six)
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Yes, maybe, just maybe....
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(Lord, ain't I a rattle?!)
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That's what I thought.
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I love this extract for its cosy old-married-couple domestication, especially so early in the saga.
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It is much along the same lines as They were looking after themselves, living with rigid economy; and there was no greater proof of their friendship than the way their harmony withstood their very grave differences in domestic behaviour. In Jack's opinion Stephen was little better than a slut: his papers, odd bits of dry, garlic'd bread, his razors and small-clothes lay on and about his private table in a miserable squalor; and from the appearance of the grizzled wig that was now acting as a tea-cosy for his milk-saucepan, it was clear that he had breakfasted on marmalade.
Jack took off his coat, covered his waistcoat and breeches with an apron, and carried the dishes into the scullery. 'My plate and saucer will serve again,' said Stephen. 'I have blown upon them. I do wish, Jack,' he cried, 'that you would leave that milk-saucepan alone. It is perfectly clean. What more sanitary, what more wholesome, than scalded milk? Will I dry up?' he called through the open door.
'No, no,' cried Jack, who had seen him do so. 'There is no room - it is nearly done. Just attend to the fire, will you?'
'We might have some music,' said Stephen. 'Your friend's piano is in tolerable tune, and I have found a German flute. What are you doing now?'
'Swabbing out the galley. Give me five minutes, and I am your man.'
'It sounds more like Noah's flood. This peevish attention to cleanliness, Jack, this busy preoccupation with dirt,' said Stephen, shaking his head at the fire, 'has something of the Brahminical superstition about it. It is not very far removed from nastiness, Jack - from cacothymia.'
'I am concerned to hear it,' said Jack. 'Pray, is it catching?' he added, with a private but sweet-natured leer.
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??!!
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Now we know why Stephen prizes Jack's singularly sweet smile ;D
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Exactly...maybe also one of the reasons I got a dish washer?! ;D
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*nods*
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*tries to imagine how Tom would be able to keep a straight face and fails too*
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*covers eyes once more*
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*sings out Snugglebuns*
*hides*
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*is back to naked marines again*
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*shakes head*
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Not so much - more that the garment is distressingly clingy and therefore absolutely nothing is left to the imagination.
*shuts eyes*
*covers eyes with one hand*
*reaches for heavy bag to cover entire head with the other*
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*sends nacreous wide scarf for extra cover*
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Apparently Stephen is not the only one.
*looks pointedly in your direction*
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I cannot tell I lie, I do like to view a genteel figgar.
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Then I was probably more thinking along the lines of those heavy brocade things...
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Oh dear.
*looks guiltily at fic just written*
I have made reference to it because I knew esteven favoured it...
*hands over large brown paper bag with which to cover head*
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*snugs you rotten*
*bounces*
I knew I would love your fic!
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It's just a passing reference mind and it doesn't actually appear - but hopefully it will put a nice little image in your head ;-)
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"You can't please all the people all the time, so don't bloody try." - copyright, my mum.
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And here I thought Paris knitted made to measure?
*g*
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Sometimes only the words cute and/or adorable will do to describe them.
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