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"I thought maybe they didn't come here." "Come?" he grunted. "Won't they be hunting you? Well, keep out of their clutches, I say. That's absolutely necessary. You'll see why if you let 'em get you! For how'll you ever find your father?" "Oh!" A sudden flush swept her face. She looked at the ground. She had forgotten Miss Royle and Thomas and Jane. Worse!
"No; this is all my own and Molly's. But how'll I start her off?" "Get an efficient young man to act as private secretary; a fairly good accountant; no rich man's son, but some one who has had a chance to observe life. Make him a buffer between Mrs. Killigrew and the whining cheats. And above all, no young man who has social entrée to your house.
"There isn't but three no two ninety-four or five quintal more by my reckoning." "Hire a substitute," suggested Cheyne, to see what Harvey would say. "Can't, sir. I'm tally-man for the schooner. Troop says I've a better head for figures than Dan. Troop's a mighty just man." "Well, suppose I don't move the 'Constance' to-night, how'll you fix it?"
Poyser, turning his head on one side in a dubitative manner and giving a precautionary puff to his pipe between each sentence, "I don't know. Th' war's a fine thing for the country, an' how'll you keep up prices wi'out it? An' them French are a wicked sort o' folks, by what I can make out. What can you do better nor fight 'em?" "Ye're partly right there, Poyser," said Mr.
I don't believe you could get Topham to budge from his chair in Gray's dressing-room if you'd " "What'll you bet?" "I'll bet you the biggest box of chocolate creams at Huyler's." "Done! I'll send for him to-night, just before Gray and her Lord come, and you see " "How'll I see? Where'll I be?"
"It isn't dark enough," said Ellen. "Well," said he, discontentedly, pulling down another piece, "how'll that do? That's dark enough." It was a fine and beautiful piece, very different from those he had showed her first. Even Ellen could see that, and fumbling for her little pattern of merino, she compared it with the piece. They agreed perfectly as to fineness.
"You do hired man's work for your father. How'll you live that down?" It was Billy's turn to blush. "I'm a man," he replied. Lydia's voice suddenly quivered. "Then how can I earn money?" "Dead easy! You make the best fudge in the world. Put some for sale in the University book store. I'm clerking there an hour every day." "The very thing!" cried Ma Norton. "Billy, you are a duck!" shrieked Lydia.
"He's sun mad," the old man said. "Half crazy. I've seen 'em go that way before. How'll he get through the desert I'm asking you?" There were some contusions on the head that looked bad, the doctor said, but nothing seemed to be broken. He'd been half strangled; they'd have to get him into the wagon. "Leave him at Fort Bridger," came Courant's voice through the haze. "Leave him there to rot."
Let's see," mused Alan. "I don't know as I know any. I'll tell you, I read one a while ago that I liked pretty well, and if I get hard up, I can put in some of that. How'll that do?" "Beautifully," said Polly, with enthusiasm. "You do tell such splendid stories, Alan." The group in Mrs. Adams's parlor had gathered there for a strange purpose, that day.
The young man shifted his legs irritably. "Then how'll this suit you?" he called. "We'll declare that first 'one good turn' a failure and start afresh. Do me a good turn." Jimmie halted in his tracks and looked back suspiciously. "I'm going to Hunter's Island Inn," called the young man, "and I've lost my way. You get in here and guide me. That'll be doing me a good turn."
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