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Morley's room at the Brevord," answered Avery. Greenleaf needed no hint from Bristow this time. "Avery," he said, "your beat takes in the railroad station. Go down to Number Five and get a good look at this man Morley. After that, if he attempts to leave Furmville, arrest him."
My son, who lives in New Hampshire, occasionally sends me the Gazette, and in one number, which came nearly a year ago, appeared this very article, taken originally from an old English paper." "Prove it! Produce the paper!" fiercely ejaculated Mrs. Greenleaf, as she left the room in quest of her daughter.
Charles Sandford, meanwhile, who was cultivating the sublime art of indifference, the distinguishing feature and the ideal of his tribe, only tapped his boot with his slender ratan, and then smoothed his silky moustaches. Greenleaf briefly expressed his thanks for the invitation, and, when the family had gone, turned to his friend with an inquiring look. "Famous, my boy!" said Easelmann.
But the world generally thinks that whoever habitually wears a smiling mask has some secret end to serve thereby. "I like this painter, Greenleaf," she soliloquized, "and I mean to look out for him. I am persuaded that Marcia would never marry him; and I think he is too sensitive, too manly, to be a fit subject for her experiments." "A Musical soirée?
Greenleaf, built a memorial chapel in North Cambridge for the Episcopal society there, and from this Longfellow formed the habit of walking in that direction by way of the Botanic Garden. Somewhere in the cross streets he became acquainted with two children, the son and daughter of a small shop-keeper.
Little John, who did not wish to confess that he was one of Robin Hood's men and an outlaw, said his name was Reynold Greenleaf, and that he was in the service of a Knight, whose leave he must get before he became the servant of any man.
Then you will return and marry the constant Alice, and live in economical splendor, on a capital let me see of eighty-seven dollars and odd cents, being the proceeds of a certain auction-sale. Promising, isn't it?" Greenleaf was silent, his pipe out. "Don't be gloomy," continued Easelmann, in a more sympathetic tone. "Let us take a stroll round the Common.
Eighteen months later, and again Madame Duvant's rooms were crowded to overflowing, but this time Arabella Greenleaf was not there, though George Clayton was, eagerly watching each word and movement of Mildred Graham, whose uncle had insisted upon her remaining at school until she, too, should graduate, and who now, justly, received the highest honors of her class.
If Walter built air-castles, was he to blame? At twenty-four, with a heart untouched, with fresh susceptibilities, and a little romance withal, is it to be wondered that his fancy drew such pleasing pictures of his cousin? We will leave them to their quiet evening's enjoyment and follow Greenleaf to the house of Mr. Sandford.
Greenleaf, lolling back in a rocker near the folding doors of the dining room, gazed at the ceiling, making a show of lack of interest. Abrahamson, nearest the porch door, was the only auditor thoroughly absorbed in the detective's story and at the same time unreservedly credulous. "But you know where he is?" Fulton persisted. "Yes; approximately."
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