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In his anxiety he crouched down beneath the sink, and his foot, bent beneath him, touched a large tin tray leaning against the wall. It fell over with a terrible clang. "Bock!" said Titania sharply, "what are you doing?" Aubrey was wondering miserably whether he ought to counterfeit a bark, but it was too late to do anything. The pantry door opened, and Titania looked in.
Her cheeks were cool and ruddy from the keen air, her face lit with the tranquil satisfaction of those who have sojourned in the comfortable city of Boston. "Well, my dear," said Roger, "this makes it a real Thanksgiving. "I've had a stunning time," she said, patting Bock who stood at her knee, imbibing the familiar and mysterious fragrance by which dogs identify their human friends.
John R. Haynes, Finance; Miss Annie Bock, secretary, concerned itself with effective publicity work public meetings, the distribution of literature and the press....
Before these works, in which the real Manet appeared for the first time, no one had a good word to say. To kill them more effectually, certain merits were even conceded to the "Bon Bock" and the Luxembourg picture. The "Bon Bock", as we have seen, at once challenges comparison with Hals. But in "Le Linge" no challenge is sent forth to any one; it is Manet, all Manet, and nothing but Manet.
Willis had once spent a holiday in Paris, and he was slightly acquainted with the city. He strolled on through the busy streets, brilliant in the pale autumn sunlight, until he reached the Grands Boulevards. There entering a cafe, he sat down, called for a bock, and settled himself to consider his next step. The position created by M. Max's action was disconcerting.
"Let's surround 'em," was the suggestion offered. "We'll hammer the daylights out of 'em," came from one lad, who could only be brave when backed up by a crowd. "Yes, surround 'em, don't let 'em get away!" cried Bock. "Come on!" And he led the way on the run, making snowballs as he moved.
"Right, old chap." "Smash the statues!" "Burn the galleries!" "Down with tradition!" "Eggs and more bock!" But where Rantoul differed from the revolutionary regiment was that he was not simply a painter who delivered orations; he could paint. His tirades were not a furore of denunciation so much as they were the impulsive chafing of the creative energy within him.
"Before we begin," said Titania, "just let me give Bock his present." She showed a large package of tissue paper and, unwinding innumerable layers, finally disclosed a stalwart bone. "I was lunching at Sherry's, and I made the head waiter give me this. He was awfully amused." "Come along into the kitchen and give it to him," said Helen. "He'll be your friend for life."
Andrew's hat fell on the road. Peg stood placidly, and Bock made as if to grab Andrew's leg, but I hopped out and seized him. It was certainly a weird sight. I suppose I should have wrung my hands and had hysterics, but as a matter of fact I was almost amused, it was so silly. Thank goodness the road was deserted.
So I put on my hat again, sought a secluded table at Wallack's, and over a cigar and stein of bock, drew up a résumé of the case to clear the atmosphere, as it were. It ran something like this: March 13, Thursday Holladay found murdered; daughter drives to Washington Square. March 14, Friday Coroner's inquest; Miss Holladay released; mysterious note received. March 16, Sunday Holladay buried.
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