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So he began at the first opportunity: "You have this evening's paper, I see. No telegrams of importance, I suppose?" "No, sir," said the Doctor shortly. "I saw a report in to-day's Times," said poor Mr. Bultitude, with a desperate attempt at his most conversational and instructive manner, "I saw a report that the camphor crop was likely to be a failure this season.
"And how's father?" As if he didn't know to the last detail! All at once "Why didn't you say you were coming?" he savagely demanded. "No matter," his mother replied, "I'm glad I didn't, things have happened so pleasantly. I've seen your whole Royal Street coterie, except, of course " "Yes, of course." The mother told her evening's experience. "And you like my friends?"
But we travelled at a gentle trot, which, after that evening's furious riding, was welcome to me. With bitterness I reflected as I rode that the very moment at which Mademoiselle de Canaples had brought herself to think better of me was like to prove the last we should spend together.
On another evening we went to the Walnut Street Theatre; the chief attraction of the night was furnished by the performance of a young man who had been previously exhibited as "a living skeleton." He played the part of Jeremiah Thin, and certainly looked the part well; and here I think must end my praise of the evening's performances.
And when I tiptoed to his side, there was Tookhees sitting on the rim of my drinking cup, in which I had left a new leader to soak for the evening's fishing, scrubbing his face diligently, like a boy who is watched from behind to see that he slights not his ears or his neck.
She was a regular attendant at the church, and something which he had said in that evening's sermon had deeply affected her. Mr. Hethcote spoke with her afterwards on many occasions at home. He felt a sincere interest in her, but he disliked her husband; and, when he gave up his curacy, he ceased to pay visits to the house. As to what Mrs. Farnaby's troubles were, I can tell you nothing. Mr.
Since it was the dull hour between the day's business and the evening's pleasure, Starr strolled the full length of the garage and back again before any man spoke to him. He made sure that no car there had the kind of tires he sought, so he asked if Miera and his machine had showed up there that day, and left as soon as the man said no.
Perhaps Constance and her aunt were not at home. It stood to reason that if they had been, Charlie would never have succeeded in slipping away and following John Roland to his evening's assignment. Once outside the La Salle's gate, Mary paused uncertainly. Charlie tugged impatiently at her hand. "Come on, Mary. Take Charlie home," he demanded.
She gloats over the blood; and just as the maid of your household goes, bearing out on a tray the empty glasses of the evening's entertainment, so she carried out on a platter the dissevered head of that good man, while all the banqueters shouted, and thought it a grand joke, that, in such a brief and easy way, they had freed themselves from such a plain-spoken, troublesome minister.
But the vicar was not to be switched away from the new thought that was troubling him. "I will not ask what you mean," he said, gazing steadfastly at the American. "My chief concern is the outcome of my share in this evening's pleasant amusement. I cannot shut my ears to the fact that you have planned the loss or gain of some thousands of pounds on the turn of a card at baccarat."
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