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She thought it was delightful; she thought Beaton must be glad to be part of it, though he had represented himself so bored, so injured, by Fulkerson's insisting upon having him. "And is it a secret? Is it a thing not to be spoken of?" "'Tutt' altro'! Fulkerson will be enraptured to have it spoken of in society. He would pay any reasonable bill for the advertisement." "What a delightful creature!
It's slow, but it's pretty sure. Well, I see Beaton isn't going to move on, as he ought to do; and so I must. He always was an unconventional creature." Wetmore went away, but Beaton remained, and he outstayed several other people who came up to speak to Miss Vance.
Beaton of yours at one time; and that he was amusing himself with her." "I can bear a good deal, Isabel," said March, "but I wish you wouldn't attribute Beaton to me. He's the invention of that Mr. Fulkerson of yours." "Well, at any rate, I hope, now, you'll both get rid of him, in the reforms you're going to carry out."
You think I can't be sincere with anybody." "Oh no, I don't." "What do you think?" "That you can't try." Alma gave another victorious laugh. Miss Woodburn and Fulkerson would once have both feigned a great interest in Alma's sketching Beaton, and made it the subject of talk, in which they approached as nearly as possible the real interest of their lives.
I couldn't help but sell the farm, and we can't go back to it, for it ain't there. So don't you say anything more about it, 'Liz'beth." "Pore Jacob!" said his wife. "Well, I woon't, dear." It was clear to Beaton that Dryfoos distrusted him; and the fact heightened his pleasure in Christine's liking for him.
"She seems to have more love of it and knack for it than any one of her sex I've seen yet. It really looks like a case of art for art's sake, at times. But you can't tell. They're liable to get married at any moment, you know. Look here, Beaton, when your natural-gas man gets to the picture-buying stage in his development, just remember your old friends, will you?
"To kill time," Alma explained. "Well," said Fulkerson, gallantly, "this is the last place I should like to do it. But I guess I'd better be going, too. It has sometimes occurred to me that there is such a thing as staying too late. But with Brother Beaton, here, just starting in for an evening's amusement, it does seem a little early yet. Can't you urge me to stay, somebody?"
"He's to be named Damocles and nothing else," replied the Master, and, as she turned away with a look of positive hate, he added sardonically: "And then you can call him 'Dam' for short, you know, Nurse." Nurse Beaton bridled, clenched her hands, and stiffened visibly.
"Ah!" said Wetmore, stirring his tea, "has Beaton got a natural-gas man?" "My natural-gas man," said Beaton, ignoring Wetmore's question, "doesn't know how to live in his palace yet, and I doubt if he has any caste feeling. I fancy his family believe themselves victims of it. They say one of the young ladies does that she never saw such an unsociable place as New York; nobody calls."
Wetmore can keep from laughing in our faces. I know he does behind our backs." Mrs. Leighton's mind wandered back to another point. "Then if he says Mr. Beaton can't paint, I presume he doesn't respect him very much." "Oh, he never said he couldn't paint. But I know he thinks so. He says he's an excellent critic."