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"It's this. I wanted to get her started north ahead of it. When she comes back she won't care so much," she replied incoherently, pulling a scrap of a morning newspaper from her card-case and holding it out at random for the nearest one to take. Father caught it from her hand, and going to the window, read aloud in slow, precisive accents of astonishment: "LONDON, Aug. 29.

On a large centre table a number of artistic objects were lying together in a promiscuous jumble: Japanese knick-knacks; an ivory card-case that had lost its cover, and a broken- bladed paper-knife; glove and collar and work-boxes of sandal-wood, mother-of-pearl, and papier-mache, with broken hinges; faded fans and chipped paper-weights; gorgeous picture-books with loosened covers, and a magnificent portrait-album which had been deflowered and had nothing left in it but the old and ugly, the commonplace middle-aged, and the vapid young; with many other things besides, all more or less defective.

Walton!" said the old lady, in a serene voice, with a clear hardness in its tone; and I held out my hand to aid her descent. She had pulled off her glove to get a card out of her card-case, and so put the tips of two old fingers, worn very smooth, as if polished with feeling what things were like, upon the palm of my hand.

"That night in the dance, the Spanish dance. We will go somewhere this winter and dance it over again; and the music beats will say 'I love you." "Oh, so long ago?" she exclaims. "Yes; and I have a visiting-card of yours." He hunts in his card-case. "Here it is 'Miss Nan Underhill. I've kissed it thousands of times. I have almost worn it out.

Henry Morton drew a card from his card-case and handed it with a bow to Mrs. Payson. "What's that?" asked the old lady. "My card." "Le's see, where's my specs?" said Mrs. Payson, fumbling in her pocket. "Oh, I've got 'em on. So your name's Herod. What made 'em call you that?" "Henry, madam Henry Morton." "Well, so 'tis, I declare.

'Niente! said I, and poured out on the table a card-case, a sketch-book, two pencils, a bottle of wine, a cup, a piece of bread, a scrap of French newspaper, an old Secolo, a needle, some thread, and a flute but no passport. They looked in the card-case and found 73 lira; that is, not quite three pounds.

"But then perhaps you'll change your mind when you know what I have been doing." He laughed shortly. "Nothing terrible, I should say. Looks as though you've been making a picture of my house; I don't mind that." She dived in her pocket and produced a card-case. "I'll make full confession," she said frankly. "I'm a journalist." "A what!" he repeated feebly. "A journalist. I'm on the Hour.

There might be just a chance, when out one day with Michel, of getting near enough to the wall which ran along the Clamart road to throw something over it when the old man was not looking. In one of his pockets he had a card-case with a little pencil fitted into a loop at the edge, and in the case it was his custom to carry postage-stamps. He investigated and found pencil and stamps.

"Oh, Rose, how lovely! and even little Horace bringing auntie a gift!" as the child slipped something into her hand. "It's only a card-case; but mamma said you'd like it, Aunt Adie." "And I do; it's very pretty. And here's a hug and a kiss for the pet boy that remembered his old-maid auntie." "Old maid, indeed! Adelaide, I'll not have you talking so," said Rose.

It came from her first husband, the Baron de Macumer; and she had, previously to that marriage, given up her own property in order to constitute a fortune for your brother, the Duc de Lenoncourt-Givry, who, as younger son, had not, like you, Monsieur le Duc, the advantages of an entail." So saying, Monsieur Dorlange felt in his pocket for his card-case.