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Another boy had taken his place on Major Norton's farm, but he was less reliable than Joe. "I am out of patience with that boy. I wish I had Joe back again." "Have you heard anything of Joe since he went away?" inquired Oscar. "Not a word." "I don't believe he went to California at all." "In that case we should have heard from him." "No, Joe's proud poor and proud!" said Oscar.
But until she had done and, with Norton's help, had made Lane as comfortable as possible upon his crude bed, she gave no answer to their mute pleading. Then she sat down upon the stone floor, caught her knees up in her clasped hands, and looked long and searchingly into Brocky Lane's face.
Blossom went across the street and up the narrow stairs to Lawyer Norton's office, where a contract was drafted and signed, obligating Scattergood to deliver to the Higgins's Bridge Pulp Company twenty-five thousand cords of pulp, on or before May 1st, payment to be made on delivery. Mr.
She had a week to think about it and grieve over it. The boys were going to school again now, and she saw but little of them. Judy had masters and mistresses, and was herself much out of sight. Matilda was to be under Norton's tutelage, it had been agreed; and accordingly he had put certain books in her hands and pointed out certain tasks; and Matilda laid hold of them with great zeal.
Patten laughed, his eyes jeering. "You operate? Do you think that they want you to cut a skein of silk with a pair of scissors? Cut off a man's arm . . . how far would you go before you fainted?" "That'll be about all, Patten," came Norton's voice sternly from the door. "This is Dr. Clear out." "Thank you, Mr. Norton," said Virginia quickly.
Norton's face plainly showed that he was worried. "What the matter?" asked Kennedy, putting the circumstances together. "What has Whitney been doing?" Norton seemed reluctant to talk, but having no alternative motioned to us to step aside in the corridor. "It's the first time I've talked with him since the dagger was stolen that is, about the loss," he said nervously.
"Shall we thresh matters out, Mr. Norton?" she asked. Following Virginia's barely audible words there was a long silence. Her eyes, dark with the trouble in them, rested upon Norton's face and saw the frown go from his brows while slowly the red seeped into his bronzed cheeks. For the first time in her life she saw him staggered by the shock of surprise, held hesitant and uncertain.
She gave music lessons to the children of the Quarter, and English lessons to clerks and shop girls; she did a little translating; she would pose now and then for a painter friend she was the original, for instance, of Norton's 'Woman Dancing, which you know.
Yet long after Dudley Norton's name had been almost forgotten by the overtasked, fluctuating world of Anglo-India, it still remained a household word among the Mahsud Waziris, whose brothers in blood had so treacherously taken his life. And while Norton lay dying at the Desmonds' bungalow, Richardson was established under his friend's roof as a matter of course.
John Norton's views regarding Latin literature had been adopted, and Virgil was declared to be the great old bore of antiquity, and some three or four quite unknown names, gathered amid the Fathers, were upon occasion trailed in triumph with adjectives of praise. What painter of Madonnas does the world agree to consider as the greatest?
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