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Her profile was sharp as an old daguerreotype: he saw the flowing line from brow to chin, drawn with something of austere classic beauty, the arched lips and the faint indication of a gently-rounded cheek. The rest was in shadow, and the contrast of light and gloom was like a Rembrandt picture. Then the enameled spoons rattled as Lister put down the tray. He knew the picture.
Lister when at home had free quarters at the house of a married niece, he used to sit about alone, and try and think of ways and means of securing capital sunk in a concern which seemed to show no signs of being wound-up. "I've got a touch of the 'art again, lad," said the elderly invalid, as they sat alone in the forecastle one night at Seacole. "You move about too much," said the cook.
The young Canadian is not subtle; as a rule, his talk is direct, and at awkward moments he is generally marked by a frank gravity. Vernon was grave now and Lister thought he pondered. He had not known Vernon long, but he felt one could trust him. "I met a girl on board the train," he said. "She was keen about getting away from Shillito." "Why did she want to get away?" "I don't know.
A. Watson Lister, of Australia; ex Governor John D. Long. Letters in favor were read from Professor Borden P. Bowne, of Boston University, U. S. Senator George F. Hoar, ex Governor George S. Boutwell, Dr. J. L. Withrow of Park Street Church, Congressman Samuel W. McCall, Professor W. O. Crosby of the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, Mrs.
His face got dark with effort and his hands bled, but in a few minutes he ran the canoe aground. Ruth jumped out and they reached the station as the bell began to toll. Duveen waved to them from the track by the front of the train and then jumped on board, and Lister pushed Ruth up the steps of the last car.
Alice Lister lived in a different world from that in which Polly Powell lived; they breathed a different atmosphere; they spoke a different language. Yes, he would have to make his choice. "I would rather have you than forty Polly Powells," he burst out, "I would really, Alice, but but " "There must be no buts, Tom, if if you want me. Oh, Tom, can't you see?
But careful as Lister had been in securing and bringing away his weapons, he had not escaped the scrutiny of two bright eyes hidden behind the curtain dividing the nook where Constance Hopkins and her sister Damaris slept, from the main room of the dwelling, and no sooner had the young man left the house than Constance hastily followed, and running lightly up the hill to where the Captain with John Alden at his side was roofing in an addition to his half-built house she cried,
"Rubbish, aunt!" said Miss Lister, who had slipped into an empty chair near Myra. "I agree with Miss Champion about 'services of song, and I don't care for any music but the best." Jane turned to her quickly, with a cordial smile and her most friendly manner. "Ah, but you must come," she said. "We will be victimised together.
Lister had not exaggerated; his pluck and coolness had kept Ardrigh's engines going when to stop might have meant the loss of the livestock on board. Well, Cartwright had known the fellow was good stuff and he might soon want a man like that. Somebody staunch and resolute who knew his job! He had beaten his antagonists at the shareholders' meeting, but doubted if he could do so again.
Better start your pump." The pump was soon at work, and Lister, watching the engine, mused. He wondered how much the Accra boys knew, or if it was possible the others had stolen away without waking them. Watson, the look-out, had heard nothing, and Lister remembered Brown's remarks about the Ju-Ju and thought the boys did know something but were afraid to tell.
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