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There seemed to be some connection between Tavia's envelope and the business advertised on Miss Brooks' card. But whatever could she want of Tavia? Surely she could not imagine a young girl needing the services of an expert penman? "I saw your trouble in the store the other day," Miss Brooks ventured, "and was so sorry for you.
"Gone, sir, gone!" said Bonavent patiently. "But you're mad.... Mad!" cried Guerchard. "No, I'm not mad," said Bonavent. "Gone! But who let her go?" cried Guerchard. "The men at the door," said Bonavent. "The men at the door," said Guerchard, in a tone of stupefaction. "But she had to have my permit ... my permit on my card! Send the fools up to me!"
"There are a good many of these every day," said Longfellow, "but I always like to do this little favor. It is so little to do, to write your name on a card; and if I didn't do it some boy or girl might be looking, day by day, for the postman and be disappointed. I only wish I could write my name better for them. You see how I break my letters?
He had, indeed, laid out an elaborate programme for the capture of Boston, but this he instantly dropped when Simeon Pratt sent up his card and asked to see what the girl could do. He demanded a sitting much as a dealer in horses would ask the hostler to drive the proffered animal before him in order that he might judge of her paces.
On her way to her bath she passed the rocking-chair, and lying directly in her path was a little card, yellow with age. Deena picked it up and read: "From Mother to Simeon."
Are you a coward, too, sir, as well as a ruffian?" "Enough!" the German gasped. "Swartzberg," he said, turning to his friend, "make the arrangements; for I vow I will kill this insolent puppy in the morning." Lord Fairholm at once stepped forward to the Hessian captain. "I shall have the honour to act as Mr. Holliday's second. Here is my card. I shall be at home all the evening."
Le'me see, now, says she, 'who could put that through for us. No use fooling with the Territorial delegates. I guess, says she, 'that Senator Sniper would be about the man. He's from somewheres in the West. Let's see how he stands on my private menu card. She takes some papers out of a pigeon-hole with the letter 'S' over it.
Fiske caught the card from her aunt, read the superscription, and exclaimed: 'The idea! At least she might have had the decency! She never set her foot in the house before and right enough too! What can she want now? I decidedly would refuse to see her, aunt! The widow's reply was simply, 'Don't be a fool, Ann! Rising, she said: 'Here, take poor Jacko, and comfort him till I come back.
Even the loud bell which echoed through the hall like a town clock told of wealth and show, as did the colored man who answered the summons, and bowing low to Jerrie, held out a silver tray for her card. 'Nonsense, Leo! Jerrie said, laughingly, for she had known the negro all her life and played with him, too, at times, when they both went to the district school. 'I have no card with me.
Turning, he was about indignantly to call Johnny's attention to the circumstance when the beaming expression upon his friend's face stopped him, and sealed any explanation that might have risen to his lips. Johnny had found the card and was reading it with glistening eyes. "Constance Joy!" he said delightedly. "She must have called."
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