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"Such lapses in accuracy of statement are not usual with me, but may be considered as concomitant with unusual circumstances." "Right-o!" agreed Darrow cheerfully. "Well, what about the causes?" "That I will determine when I am satisfied that all the elements of the problem are in my hands." "Right-o!" repeated Darrow. "Well, I'll bet you a new hat I'll land the cause before you do. Be a sport!"
She had brushed in this outline of her career with light rapid strokes, and in a tone of fatalism oddly untinged by bitterness. Darrow perceived that she classified people according to their greater or less "luck" in life, but she appeared to harbour no resentment against the undefined power which dispensed the gift in such unequal measure.
It was exactly like that. Percy Darrow had two hundred feet of ascent to make. He could go just so fast; must consume just so much time in his snail-like progress up the face of the hill. During that time he furnished an excellent target, and the loose sandstone showed where each shot struck.
Remember me to Miss Darrow and tell her how sorry I am that, thus far, I have been unable to be of any real service to her. As I shall see you so soon I need write nothing further. Kind regards to Miss Alice. Ever yours, GEORGE MAITLAND. When I had finished reading this letter I looked up at Gwen, expecting to see that its news had depressed her.
When he was about half-way across the room the old man turned and saw him. For the briefest instant he stared at the intruder; then, with remarkable agility, cast himself toward the table on which stood the wireless sender. Darrow, too, sprang forward. They met across the table. Darrow clutched the old man's wrists. Immediately began a desperate and silent trial of strength.
"And it did blow up!" cried Mark, still rubbing his head. "The test tube, and the other tube, and the rubber hose, and the bell-jar. I told you it would, Jack." "Then you weren't disappointed," retorted Jack, this time with a broad smile. "I don't like to disappoint people," he added. "What kind of gas was it, Darrow?" asked Professor Lenton.
Darrow cursed his luck in having, at such a moment, to run the gauntlet of a houseful of interested observers. The state of being "engaged", in itself an absurd enough predicament, even to a man only intermittently exposed, became intolerable under the continuous scrutiny of a small circle quivering with participation.
"Mark, hand me that test tube, will you, please?" The lad who had made the request looked over at his companion, a boy of about his own age, who was on the other side of the laboratory table. "The big one, or the small one?" questioned Mark Sampson. "The large one," answered Jack Darrow. "I want to put plenty of the chemical in this time and give it a good try." "Now be careful, Jack.
Montmartre, or wherever else you please. Those two chaps over there are friends of mine, at the Beaux Arts; both of them rather good fellows and we'd be so glad " For half a second Darrow read in his hospitable eye the termination "if you'd bring the lady too"; then it deflected into: "We'd all be so glad if you'd come."
No doubt many have been made infidels and atheists. How many souls have been won to Christ by Osborn, Newman, Conklin, Darrow, Lull, Shull, Scott, Coulter, Metcalf, Kellogg, Nutting, Thompson, Castle, Chapin, and all other prominent evolutionists? If evolution is nearest the truth, the number of their converts to Christ should be greatly increased.
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