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"The part of of a splendid part, that of the Sergeant," said Artheris cheerfully. "Yes, I know that part," Connie said grimly. "The idea is to have Miss Julie here understudy all the parts," said the manager quickly. "These amateurs are very apt to disappoint, do you see? They feel that there would be a sense of security in having a professional right there to fill in a gap."
After tea it began to rain, not dismally, but in a gentle way as people cry who have been too happy. "In this jolly old country fine weather means bad weather," Connie Edwards commented cynically. She had reason to be depressed. The impossible poppies dripped tears of blood over the brim of the cartwheel hat.
In the holidays, when Miss Connie was home from school, Buck was frequently allowed to drive her, or sit in his cream and brown livery beside her while she drove herself. These were always great occasions, for no refined feminine being had ever come into his life before. If he ever had a mother which he often doubted he certainly had no recollection of her or her surroundings.
If he tried that, Rip thought grimly, he would get a surprise. The second nuclear charge would be set, ready to be fired. The Connie cruiser was so big that no matter how it pulled up to the asteroid, some part of it would be close enough to the charge to be blown into space dust.
But she was finally convinced that Missy Sylvia could carry out the plan, and agreed to have a large quantity of soot ready at her mother's cabin the next morning. Sylvia was glad that she had eaten only one of the cookies. She carried the remainder to her room and then went to the kitchen. "Will you make me a fine big cake, Aunt Connie?" she asked. "Lan', course I will, chile!
"What will you tell Connie, then, Harry?" "O! what was it, Charlie? I've forgotten." Another laugh followed at Harry's expense now, and we were all very merry, when Dora, who sat opposite to the window, called out, clapping her hands "There's Niceboots again! There's Niceboots again!"
"Then no piano to-night, Connie. A little banal, the piano, perhaps." Her hands waved vaguely. A space was cleared; chairs were arranged. Miss Berber vanished behind a portiere. The languid Marchmont draped himself in a corner, and put the fat little meerschaum to his lips. A clear, jocund sound, a mere thread of music, as from the pipe of some hidden faun, penetrated the room.
But what the 'relicks' are and what the 'safe place, I can't tell. Nor do I know what is meant by the Spanish chest. If there was anything of that description around the Manor I'd jolly well know it." "Would Colonel Lisle know?" asked Win eagerly. "I wonder, will he?" mused Connie after a pause spent in close scrutiny of the document. "We'll ask.
"Here is Arty, finished!" interrupted Connie, who every little while had looked through the door at the young man. She jumped up. "Come along in and see what it is this time." They all went in, jostling and joking one another. Arty was standing up in the middle of the room looking at some much blotted slips of paper.
He fought to keep his feet under him and almost succeeded, but his knees hit the ground and pistol and knife bit into them painfully. Two figures came into his view, locked tightly together, arms flailing. It was Dowst and the second Connie. He got to his feet and was moving to the Planeteer’s aid when Santos’s voice shrilled in his helmet. "Sir! Look left!" Rip whirled.
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