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Dexter, Jessie Loring almost flew to her room, like one escaping from peril. Closing and locking the door, she crossed the apartment, and falling forward against the bed, sunk down upon her knees and buried her face in a pillow. She did not pray. There was no power in her to lift a petition upwards.
The window was open, the sun shone, and the garden with its lawn and bright flowers looked wonderfully tempting, but duty and the disgrace he was in acted as two chains to hold the boy there. "I say," he said at last. "Yes, Dexter," said Helen, looking up at him sadly. "Oh, I say, don't look at me like that," he cried. "You force me to, Dexter," she said gravely.
Yet I forgot how lonely she was and how proud, and I forgot too, that Ellen that Ellen " "Ay, Mr. Joseph. It was Ellen too. Poor Ellen, that passed away out of it all!" "And she Miss Dexter is still here, still living by herself in the cottage by the oak! I remember so well, Mrs. Cox, the first time my brother and I ever saw that oak!" "I daresay, Mr. Joseph, I daresay.
"You boys down there," said the voice, "come here immediately. Come here, I say." It was the well-known voice of Mr Robert Dexter, O'Hara and Moriarty's beloved house-master. The two Irishmen simultaneously clutched one another, each afraid that the other would think from force of long habit that the house-master was speaking to him. Both stood where they were.
Not only was he late for breakfast, but late for school, too. Never before had he brought off the double event. There was a little unpleasantness in his form room when he stole in at seven minutes past the hour. Mr. Dexter, his form-master, never a jolly sort of man to have dealings with, was rather bitter on the subject. "You are incorrigibly lazy and unpunctual," said Mr.
In a moment of weakness, and under the fascination of a strong masculine will, I plighted faith with Mr. Dexter. He knew at the time that I did not love him as a woman should love the man she consents to marry. He knew that he was extorting an unwilling consent. And just so far he took an unmanly advantage of a weak young girl. But the contract once made, truth and honor required its fulfillment.
"Lydia, who was the man over whom your mistress wanted to commit suicide?" The single, tear-reddened eye glared at him suspiciously, then became wary. "I don't know." "Was it Dexter Sprague, Lydia?" "Sprague?" She spat the name out contemptuously. "No! She didn't know him then, except to speak to at the moving picture studio." "When did he become her lover, Lydia?" Dundee asked casually.
They exchanged visits frequently when the duties of both permitted, and the Doctor reflected that, when Ralph came, Thorpe would be lonely. The Dexter house was an old one but it had been kept in good repair. From time to time, wings had been added to the original structure, until now it sprawled lazily in every direction.
If any such feeling as sympathy is a possible feeling in such a nature as his, he ought to like Helena Beauly. She is the most completely unconventional person I know. When she does break out, poor dear, she says things and does things which are almost reckless enough to be worthy of Dexter himself. I wonder whether you would like her?" "You have kindly asked me to visit you, Lady Clarinda.
Dexter arose from the bed, and commenced making changes in her dress. Her face was very white, and her movements unsteady, like the movements of a person just arisen from an exhausting sickness. There was some appearance of hurry and agitation in her manner. About an hour later, and just as twilight had given place to darkness, Mrs.
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