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"Wish to goodness I could have one of those electric fans like Miss Gibbie Gault's got," she went on, coming back to her seat and wiping her face with Mrs. Webb's handkerchief, which happened to be closest to her; "but wishing and getting are not on speaking terms in our house. Have any of you seen Miss Gibbie's new hat?" "I have." Mrs.
After speaking a few words to the governor, Monsieur de Granville took the warrant from the attorney and placed it in Gault's hands. "Let the matter proceed," said he, "unless some extraordinary circumstances should arise. Of this you must judge. I trust to your judgment. The scaffold need not be erected till half-past ten, so you still have an hour.
"Who is that?" "Mr. John Maxwell, owner of the Yorkburg shoe factory, ice factory, electric-light plant; owner of more than any one man in town, if he don't live here." Mary Cary took up her end of the paper and examined it. "His name is the first on the list. Next is Mr. Moon, then Mr. Walstein, Mr. Ash, Mr. Wilson, Mr. "Is Miss Gibbie Gault's name there?" "It is." "Wonder!" Mr.
The orderly whom Niven had with him both going and coming was hit by high explosive shells. Niven is so small that it is difficult to hit him. He is about up to Major Gault's shoulder. He had been worrying about his supply of rifle-cartridges. There were not enough to take care of another German infantry charge, which was surely coming.
Her mother was a Bloodgood; and everybody knows, also, that since the Yankee soldier, who died during the war at Judge Gault's house, was buried there the gate has been bricked up and nobody has ever been inside but Miss Gibbie and Jackson who cuts the grass." "But how does she get in?" Mrs. Burnham's voice was puzzled inquiry. "If there's no gate, how
Hearing them now, Tildy reached hastily for her clean apron and hurried up-stairs. Ordinarily orders for the kitchen came through Miss Jane, the housekeeper, whose mother before her had kept the keys of the Gault house from the day of Mrs. Gault's death to her own.
And then he launched his thunderbolt, "Gault's back." The chorus of despair became one of wild delight. "We're jake!" "He'll see us through." "Where is he?" "How's his arm?" "The son-of-a-gun! Couldn't keep him away, could they?" "No fear. Not 'im. Bloody well wanted to be wiv 'is bleedin' boys, 'e did.
We went in the afternoon to a party at Mrs. Redpath's; her son, "now gone to his home above," she said, had known one of mine at Cambridge. It is a pretty place, on a hill near this, and a good many people there; it got very damp after sunset. We none of us went to an evening party going on at Mrs. Gault's, being too tired. Mr.
"A thousan'?" repeated Ferris, scared at the magnitude of the sum then, rallying, he asked: "What WILL you let me have him fer, then? Set a price, can't you?" "The dog is not for sale," curtly replied Gault, busying himself with the lighting of a cigarette. "Take Mr. Gault's check and go," commanded Marden, thrusting the slip of paper at Link. "I think there is nothing more to say.
"And 'tain't my business to tell other people how cracky some of their doin's look to onlookers. But it beat me that this heah kind o' dinner is a goin' to be give white folks in Mars Judge Gault's house. Ain't never seen such eatin's anywhere as ladies and gent'men have sot down to in his day, and to think what Miss Gibbie is agoin' to do to-night is enough to make him grunt in glory. That 'tis.
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