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The sailors and Captain Pickersgill all rose and went to the window, to ascertain Corbett's fortune by this new species of augury. The blue pigeon flapped his wings, and then he sidled up to the white one; at last, the white pigeon flew off the wall and settled on the roof of the adjacent house.
Corbett's decree against card-playing was well known. Dan Lonsbury, close beside the table lamp, read a week-old copy of the Brandon Times. George Sims, the horse-dealer, by the light of his own lantern, close beside him on the bench, pared his corns with minute attention to detail.
Charles Corbett's History of the Revival is to my mind the most interesting book of this century. There are passages in it which leave me marvelling afresh each time I read them, that any writer, however gifted, could make quite so intimate a revelation, without personal knowledge of the inside workings of the movement he describes so perfectly.
I'll have an alert sent out for the cab driver, and I'll have the owner of the pawnshop picked up. There must be someone on the Solar Delegate's staff who stole those priorities. We'll start searching there first, and if we come up with anyone who can't explain his absence from Venusport at the time the priorities were used, and fits Corbett's description, we'll contact you. End transmission!"
It drew to a halt in front of him, and the lad who was driving got out. "Señorita Maria sends a carriage for Señor Gordon to take him to Corbett's," he said. Dick was on hand with a sardonic smile. "Tell the señorita that Mr. Gordon regrets having put her to so much trouble, but that he needs the exercise and prefers to walk." "The señorita said I was to insist, señor."
"Something doing back of the corral, Mr. Gordon." Yeager, the horse-wrangler at Corbett's, stopped in front of the porch, and jerked his head, with a twisted grin, in the direction indicated. Everything about the little stableman was crooked. From the slope of his legs to the set of his bullet head on the narrow shoulders, he was awry.
But, though her misery was acute, she was of a temperament too hopeful and impulsive to give up to despair so long as action was possible. While she did not yet know what she could do, she was not one to sit idle while events hurried to a crisis. Meantime she had her majordomo order a horse saddled for her to ride over to Corbett's for the mail.
For one brief moment you must admire Rooney with me as he receives, seats, manipulates, and chaffs his guests. He is twenty-nine. He has Wellington's nose, Dante's chin, the cheek-bones of an Iroquois, the smile of Talleyrand, Corbett's foot work, and the poise of an eleven-year-old East Side Central Park Queen of the May.
Did you find Mr. Gordon at home?" "At home?" he gasped. "Well, at Corbett's, then?" "I didn't know Who told you er " "I'm not blind and deaf and dumb, you know." "But you certainly have a great deal of imagination," he said, recovering himself. "Not a bit of it. You carried a challenge to this American from Don Manuel. Now, I want to know the answer." "Really, my dear girl "
But here Corbett wraps the whole thing up before we can get our pencils sharpened." "Better stuff cotton in Corbett's ears before he hears all this," rasped Roger Manning over the intercom. "Or his head'll be too big to go through the hatch." "Quiet, Manning," came Astro's voice from the power deck. "Your mouth alone is bigger than Tom's head'll ever be."
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