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She saw herself lying in the cottage, stately and mysterious, while the hill girls went in and out, and whispered. "I'll kill myself," she repeated. "Nothing will happen to me, Anna, dear." "I don't know why I care so. I'm nothing to you." "That's not so." "If you cared, you'd have come up the other night. You left me alone in that lonesome hole. It's hell, that place.
"Now, ma'am," said he, after he had cooked the breakfast like in all ways to the supper of the night before "I'm a-going to ask you to stay here alone a little while to-day. You ain't afraid, are you?" "You'll not be gone long? It's lonesome to me all the time, of course." In reality she was terrified beyond words at the thought of being left alone. "I know that.
And meantime what is being done for the young men who are expected to share in the high society of the future? Will not the young women by-and-by find themselves in a lonesome place, cultivated away beyond their natural comrades? Where will they spend their evenings? This sobering thought suggests a duty that the young women are neglecting. We refer to the education of the young men.
You who happen to have seen a successful free lance knock off work in mid-afternoon to play tennis, or to skim away toward the country club in his new motor car are too likely to exclaim that "his is the existence!" Forgetting, of course, the lonesome hours of more or less baffling effort that he spent that day upon a manuscript before he locked up his workshop.
Don glanced toward the red-haired scout. Tim caught his eye and made a derisive face, and then turned his back and began to whistle as though he was having a gloriously good time. But Don was not fooled. Tim was lonesome. He felt that he was frozen out. But what could Tim expect if he was going to antagonize everybody? By and by cooking utensils were cleaned and put away. The fires were smothered.
You would not believe how he misses you." "It has been pretty lonesome for the last year. I didn't think it could be so lonesome anywhere." "Nor did I." "Have you noticed it? I shouldn't think you could in the mountains. Was there much water last spring? Heavens, I'd like to see the Crawling Stone again!" "Why don't you come back?" He folded her hands in his own. "Marion, it is you.
He is there in the clouds, in the tempests, where the lightnings play, and thunders leap, amid the elemental tumult, in the occasional great calm and silence and the pale sunlight. It is the most majestic, the most lonesome grave on earth. As we sat there, awed a little by this presence, the clouds were gathering from various quarters and drifting towards us.
But a streak of sunset glanced along the lonesome gorge, and cast my shadow further than my voice would go; and by it I saw something long and slender against a scar of rock, and standing far in front of me. Toward this I ran as fast as ever my trembling legs would carry me, for I knew too well that it must be the fishing-rod of George Bowring.
If the sheriff were an old-timer such evidence would not be overlooked. Pete got up and wandered out to the veranda. The place was deserted. He suddenly realized that those who were able had gone to their noon meal. He had forgotten about that. He walked back to his room and sat on the edge of his cot. He was lonesome and dispirited. He was not hungry, but he felt decidedly empty.
Three black ravens were flying overhead, and a lark was singing its evening song. Eileen looked up in the sky. "There's the ghost of a moon up there! Look, Larry," she said. Larry looked up. There floating high above them, was a pale, pale moon, almost the colour of the sky itself. "It looks queer and lonesome up there," he said, "and there's no luck at all in three ravens flying.
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