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He held Cosgrave's sticky hand tight, and at that loyal understanding pressure Cosgrave began to cry, shaking from head to foot, jerking out his words between his chattering teeth. "It's s-stupid to cry I do w-wish I w-wasn't always c-crying about everything after all he c-can't kill me more than once, can he? But he's such a beast. He h-hates anyone else to h-have a good time and tell lies.
"Washington!" exclaimed Cynthia. "When?" "N-now to-morrow." Then he added uneasily, "C-can't you get ready?" Cynthia laughed. "Why, I'll go to-night, Uncle Jethro," she answered. "Well," he said admiringly, "you hain't one of them clutterin' females. We can get some finery for you in New York, Cynthy. D-don't want any of them town ladies to put you to shame.
Davenant, too, panted, but his wrath that had flared up like a rocket had already come down like a stick. "Look here," he stammered; "we we c-can't do this sort of thing." Ashley fell back. He, too, seemed to realize quickly the folly of the situation. When he spoke it was less in anger than in protest. "By God, you struck me!" "I didn't know it, Colonel.
He's over the r-river, down at Marshal's. He was sent fer to-day. Oh, my poor Sammy!" and the distressed man gave a loud wail of despair. "What d'ye want me to do, man?" the captain demanded. "Go fer the doctor. I c-can't git anybody else." "H'm, is that so? I thought it must be something pretty desperate which would send ye to me."
"What's the matter with grandpa's little girl?" Mrs. Sherman, with a frightened expression, hurried to her, and, bending over her, tried to get a glimpse of the tear-swollen face buried so persistently in the cushions. "Nothing's happened! No, I'm not sick," came in smothered tones from the depths of the pillows. "It's j-just crying itself, and I I I c-can't stop-p-p!"
Hancock found his legs somehow; but they shook under him, and all of a sudden he felt himself turning white and sick. "You don't mean to tell me " he began. But Pengelly rounded on him and took him by the ear so that he squeaked. "Where's my wife, you miserable joker, you?" demanded Pengelly. "They c-can't be in earnest!"
"I've g-got a b-bunny, a-and it f-fell in the g-grease box a-and we c-can't wash it off, a-and h-he's asleep now. C-can I g-give my b-bunny some b-bacon, Mister G-godsend?" The woman laughed, and Jack dear laughed, and Casey himself grinned sheepishly. Casey did not want to be called a godsend, and he hated the term "Mister" when applied to himself.
"I c-can't explain it, even to myself, Marcella. But I I th-think it w-was because I g-got a bit huffy with the idea th-that I was depending on you for everything. I f-felt as if I was tied to your apron strings. I felt as if I was being a g-good little b-b-boy, you know. So I thought I'd kick a bit! But I w-was trying damned hard before. You know I was."
"I c-can't he'p myse'f," stammered Celia; "you say such frightful things to me you tell me that they happen in my own house in her own room How can I be calm? How can I believe such things of of Constance Berkley of yo' daid mother " "I don't know," he said dully. The star-light sparkled on the silver candle-stick where it lay on the floor in a little pool of wax.
Still upon his knees, Barrymaine began to fumble at the buttons of that stained, betraying garment but, all at once, his fingers seemed to grow uncertain, they groped aimlessly, fell away, and he spoke in a hoarse whisper, while upon his lip was something white, like foam. "I oh I Beverley, I c-can't!"
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