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"I'll let Struve think I have to make a call at Las Estrellas. I'll be out in five minutes." He thanked her with his eyes, opened the hall door, and went out. Virginia, having changed swiftly to her riding-togs, took up her little black emergency kit, which would lend an air of business urgency to her nocturnal ride with Norton, and stepped out into the hall.
Norton and told him that we'd organize the women of the city and would carry on a boycott campaign against his store we didn't really put it quite as crudely as that unless he'd force the Sentinel to stop Mr. Doolittle's lying extra and print your statement. "Mr. Norton gave in, and telephoned the Sentinel that if it didn't do as he said he'd cancel his advertising contract.
"Inez is as afraid of her as any of the rest," remarked Kennedy thoughtfully. "She says it is the evil eye." "Not an uncommon belief among Latin-Americans," commented Norton. "In fact, I suppose there are people among us who believe in the evil eye yet. Still, you can hardly blame that little girl for believing it is almost anything. Well, I won't keep you any longer.
His dear mother! He had never forgotten the words with which she had shown him the sunset through the coppice down at old Withes Norton, when he was nine years old: "That is beauty, Jack! Do you feel it, darling?" He had not felt it at the time not he; a thick-headed, scampering youngster. Even when he first went to India he had had no eye for a sunset. The rising generation were different.
"You know Mr. Whitney, I suppose?" "Not very well," she answered. "Of course, I have met him. He has been to visit my father, and my father has been down at his office, with Mr. Lockwood. But I do not know much about him, except that he is what you Americans call a promoter." Apparently, Inez was endeavouring to be frank in telling her suspicions, much more so even than Norton had been.
He started towards her, but she turned on him. "Where is she?" "Where's who?" She did not reply, but standing against the wall, she stared at him with a passionate scorn. "You don't mean Sarah Norton?" asked Joe, slowly. Esther quivered. "Why, she came to tell me of the trouble her father was trying to get me into. But how did you come here, Esther? How did you know anything about it?"
Into the light cast by the hotel porch-lamp Norton, leading Persis, rode around the corner of the building. "I was just going out," said Virginia. "But I'll go on this case first. Mr. Norton is riding with me. Please ask him to wait while I get my other bag." In her room again, the lamp lighted on her table, she stood a moment frowning thoughtfully into vacancy.
I remember passing an evening with them there, when a host of distinguished public and literary men were crowded into their small drawing-room, which was literally resplendent with the light of Sheridan beauty, male and female: Mrs. Norton, Mrs. Certainly I never saw such a bunch of beautiful creatures all growing on one stem. I remarked it to Mrs.
"Take this purse," he cried impatiently. "You will find a horse ready saddled in the stables. Ride it hard. It will bear you to Norton at least. There get you a fresh one, and when that is done, another. Now be off."
"My dear, why do you not lean on your left arm, as I have told you," said Mrs Norton when Fanny was taking her writing lesson. "My shoulder hurts me," answered Fanny, "and, if you will excuse me, I will try and write without doing so." "There, now, she is going to tell her governess I threw the bat at her," thought Norman.
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