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Tidemand and Ole Henriksen were coming as a matter of course. That was settled. "Ask whom you like, but I refuse to open my doors to that fellow Norem," said the Attorney. "He always gets drunk and sentimental; he is an awful bore. My wife wouldn't stand for him." Then the affair could not be held at Grande's house. It would never do to slight Norem. In the perplexity Milde offered his studio.
Miss Amy Lowell has written fully about it in the Prefaces to Sword Blades and Poppy Seed and Can Grande's Castle, in the final chapter of Tendencies in Modern American Poetry, in the Prefaces to Some Imagist Poets, and in the North American Review for January, 1917. Mr. Braithwaite's annual Anthologies of American Verse give a full bibliography of special articles upon this topic.
Le Grande's lawyer from New York, and Dr. Townshend, who had drawn her will, with the nurse and landlady, who were her witnesses. Presently the lawyer put on his spectacles, and broke the seal, and then in a hard, dry voice began to read the will. I listened with languid interest until presently Mr. Winthrop's name was mentioned. I looked at him with keen surprise. Could it be possible Mrs.
The advice, however, was good, the judgment good enough; but before it could be followed a stroke more telling than any Can Grande's sword could have made was wrought by Madonna of the Peach-Tree. On the night of that same day Can Grande was sitting in the palace with two chosen companions, as dare-devil as himself, waiting the hour of an assignation.
He's headin' for the border, and he's due here about sundown, now that Arroyo Grande's dry. I was aimin' to let you ride his horse." "Then you're an officer?" "Yes'm. Ranger. So you see I can't help you to get home till my man comes. Do you live around here?" The speaker looked up inquiringly, and after an instant's hesitation the woman said, quietly: "I am Mrs. Austin."
With increasing years and experience he will become bolder and more skilful, and bids fair, we should say, to become one of the most dexterous operators known in his peculiar line. On the present occasion, he did not heed the piteous pleadings of the disappointed boatmen, nor Sobrina's explanations, nor Can Grande's arguments.
But the thought that Mr. Bowen was praying for me made me feel more confident that everything would turn out best for me, and for those also in whom I was most interested. I did not forget through the week Mrs. Le Grande's eagerness for Mr.
"Metrical verse," says Miss Lowell in the Preface to Can Grande's Castle, "has one set of laws, cadenced verse another; 'polyphonic prose' can go from one to the other in the same poem with no sense of incongruity.... I finally decided to base my form upon the long, flowing cadence of oratorical prose.
An hour later, as the Citadel clock sounded the hour of midnight, Judge Le Grande's carriage rolled rapidly toward the mansion of Benjamin Mordecai, bearing home his beautiful daughter, escorted by Emile Le Grande.
At last the truth has come to light, the terrible mystery is revealed," as she read the unfortunate yet idle record of young Le Grande's, made on the night of Bertha Levy's tea- party, the foolish record: "If I knew that she loved Mark Abrams, I would kill him."
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