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Louisiana found expression in the Creole stories of Mr. G. W. Cable, Indiana in the Hoosier poems of Mr. James Whitcomb Riley, and central New York in the novels of Mr. Harold Frederic; but nowhere was the new impulse so firmly and finely directed as in New England, where Miss Sarah Orne Jewett's studies of country life antedated Miss Mary Wilkins's work.
Landlord Files, who was bringing ham and eggs to a commercial drummer, was amazed by this familiarity and stopped and showed that amazement. He was more astonished by what he overheard. Mr. Orne was saying, "As your manager, Britt " Mr. Britt scowled at Mr. Files, and the latter slap-slupped on his slippered way; it was certainly news that Britt had taken on a manager.
Pierre, are the first and last words we heard of Caen; the first time, when approaching it one summer's morning from Dives, by the banks of the Orne the driver of our calèche pointed to its summit with the pride of a Savoy peasant, shewing the traveller the highest peak of Monte Rosa; and the last, when Caen was en fête, and all the world flocked to hear a great preacher from Paris, and the best singers in Calvados.
"Sobie is beginning to come to his senses," said Polly. "You're about through, son." "Don't underestimate your future son-in-law," said Orne. "Hah!" barked Diana. "I hate you, Lewis Orne!" "You'll get over that," said Orne mildly. "Ohhhhhh!" Diana quivered with fury. "My major point is this," said Orne. "Government is a dubious glory.
"Perhaps, then, it was the way the light fell on your face." He peered closely at his client. Mr. Britt's color was coming back. Orne's cryptic speeches and his haste to collect had warmed the banker's wrath. "It'll be ten dollars, as we agreed." Britt yanked a big wallet from his breast pocket, plucked out a bill, and shoved it at Orne.
The buildings are now used as a farm, and the church is generally stacked with hay and straw up to the triforium. Although they start towards the east, the canal and the river Orne taking parallel courses run generally towards the north, both entering the sea by the village of Ouistreham, the ancient port of Caen.
He smoothed down the top piece and looked more at ease. He smiled when he reflected on what he would have to say to her after Emissary Orne had returned with something in the line of fruits from the Promised Land. His self-assurance revived; nevertheless, he tiptoed along the corridor and listened at the door of the bank.
"Is he always that sharp?" "Every time," said Stetson. "If you want to go into politics, Lewis," said Polly, "I'd be delighted to " "I'm already in politics as far as I want to be," growled Orne. "What I really want is to settle down with Di, catch up on some of the living I've missed." Diana stiffened. "I never want to see, hear from or hear of Mr. Lewis Orne ever again!" she said.
"You didn't have to go very far, hey, to find out how I stand for that nomination?" "I went far enough so that you can depend on what I tell you." "Go ahead and tell, then." Mr. Orne slowly fished a quill toothpick from the pocket of his overcoat, set the end of the quill in his mouth, and "sipped" the air sibilantly, gazing over Britt's head with professional gravity.
On the other hand, if we expose them, we give a bunch of political amateurs every fanatic and power-hungry demagogue in the galaxy just the weapon they need to sweep them into office." "After that: chaos," said Orne. "So we let the Nathians continue ... with two minor alterations." "We alter nothing," said Polly. "It occurs to me, Lewis, that you don't have a leg to stand on.
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