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Janet's increasing knowledge of its organization and processes only served to heighten her admiration for the confidence Ditmar had shown from the beginning. It was superb. And now, as the probability of the successful execution of the task tended more and more toward certainty, he sometimes gave vent to his boyish, exuberant spirits.
And poor Johnny came on board on the pilot boat you ken, and he hadna a change, and Norman gave him the handkerchief and an old waistcoat of papa's, and " Janet's hands were uplifted in consternation. "Keep's and guide's lassie that I should say such a word. Your papa hadna an old waistcoat in his possession. What for did you do the like o' that?
She had brought with her some rolls of flowery paper. She ran to fetch them from the wagonette, and pinned some pieces against the wall. The larger room with the south aspect should be Janet's. She would take the north room for herself. She saw them both in her mind's eye already comfortably furnished; above all fresh and bright.
Waverley's mind involuntarily turned to the Patmos of the Baron of Bradwardine, who was well pleased with Janet's fare and a few bunches of straw stowed in a cleft in the front of a sand-cliff; but he made no remarks upon a contrast which could only mortify his worthy tutor. All was now in a bustle to prepare for the nuptials of Edward, an event to which the good old Baronet and Mrs.
The man struck a match and hurriedly started the fire. By the sudden blaze she saw that it was Ai Trueman, one of the crew from the farther station. Once the fire was kindled and burning, the man sat down in the corner of the bench directly over Janet's hiding place and shook his sou'wester free of the ice and snow that had collected upon it. It was not long before the door opened again.
Pettifer could utter another word of dissuasion, leaving the good woman in considerable anxiety lest this new impulse of Janet's should frustrate all precautions to save her from a sudden shock. Janet having paid her visit in Butcher Lane, turned again into Orchard Street on her way to Mrs.
She experienced a certain exultation, a renewed and pleasurable sense of power as she took down his words. At certain moments during the days that followed the degree of tension her relationship with Ditmar had achieved tested the limits of Janet's ingenuity and powers of resistance.
Even Lady Janet's large toleration had its limits. It embraced every human offense except a breach of good manners. She snatched up the nearest weapon of correction at hand a tablespoon and rapped her young friend smartly with it on the arm that was nearest to her. "My table is not the club table," said the old lady. "Hold up your head. Don't look at your fork look at me.
It was a pause in Janet's labors that gave the elder first warning of an intruder on his peace. A man was coming across the clearing a short fellow, thick-set and bow-legged in figure, slow and heavy of face. The elder observed him with stony eyes. "It's the Englisher," he muttered. "What'll he be wanting wi' me?" His accent was hostile as his glance.
I know, because it's been tried." Tilted back in his chair, he blew a cloud of smoke toward the ceiling, and his eyes sought Janet's. She avoided them, resenting a little the assumption of approval she read in them.
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