United States or Chad ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Controlling her agitation by a supreme effort, she said: "What what about him?" "He's been in Chicago." "How do you know?" Brockton held out the newspaper. "Here's a dispatch about him." She came quickly forward and looked over the broker's shoulder. Her voice was trembling with suppressed excitement, as she said: "What where what's it about?" Brockton chuckled.
"It's hard living with her during the process, but she's adorable once her noble impulses have been vanquished and she's comfortably like the rest of the world again." "I don't know what you mean," said the downright Mr. Brockton. "No?" Mrs. Dinsmore was sure that the impertinence of her monosyllable would be lost upon her elderly protege. "I'll make it clear to you, if I can.
Brockton, before you arrived, now I have seen you and I'm a man who forms his conclusions right off the bat I don't mind saying you've agreeably surprised me. That's just a first impression, but they run kind o' strong with me."
"Jerry just said it was some man up in Brockton whom he didn't know and as he couldn't make head nor tail out of the message he hung up the receiver. Nobody ever telephones to Jerry. It was queer they should do it to-day, wasn't it?" "Very. Did you tell Mr. Crowninshield about it?" "Oh, no, indeed. He was too busy about Lola to think of anything else." "Nevertheless, I would tell him." "What for?
"There's no reason in the world that is, no sensible reason why Lulie and Nelson shouldn't be engaged to be married. Of course he isn't doin' very well in a business way just now, but that's partly from choice on Lulie's account. Nelse was a telegraph operator up in Brockton before the war.
She had her carriages, her automobiles, and her saddle horse, her town apartment and her bungalow by the sea, and for a time set a pace so swift that no other woman of her acquaintance could keep up with her. All this cost money, and a lot of it, but Brockton gave her free rein. The broker did not care. He smiled indulgently and footed her enormous bills without protest.
Brockton stood still, looking her squarely in the eyes. His manner was extremely serious and determined. "I'm sorry," he said, "but I've got to." Slowly and deliberately he went on: "Last summer, in Denver, I told John Madison that if this time ever came when you would return to me of your own free will I'd have you write him the truth. Before we go any further, I'd like you to do that now."
They made their swift way through the hills, sometimes overlooking the winding course of the river, sometimes skirting the great estates of the region, again whizzing noisily through an old village. Anna and Brockton sustained the weight of conversation. Millicent smiled in vague sympathy with their laughter and Joined at random in the talk.
Pall River, Lowell, and New Bedford are the great centers of cotton manufacture; Lawrence, of both cotton and wool; Lynn, Brockton, and Haverhill make millions of boots and shoes; and at Springfield is a United States arsenal, where firearms are made. Holyoke has large paper mills. Gloucester is a great fishing port. Salem has large tanneries."
Thanks to Brockton, she secured one of the best parts of the expiring theatrical season, and made such a hit that her name was in everybody's mouth. The newspapers interviewed her, society women copied her, toothpaste and perfume manufacturers solicited her testimonials. In a word, she was famous overnight.
Word Of The Day