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Shattuck's back was toward her when he replied. "Sorry to spoil any more illusions, dear child, but how about the long list of men who are annually ruined by it? The men in the prisons, the men who kill themselves, the men who hang for it?" "Those are crimes. I am not talking of the criminal classes, but of the world in which normal people live."
'Twa'n't a remark cal'lated to encourage conversation, so I didn't try again not till his umbrella turned inside out on the Denboro platform. Ho! ho! I wish you'd have seen his face then." At Denboro he pointed out Pete Shattuck's livery stable, where the horse and buggy came from which had been the means of transporting Graves and himself to South Denboro. "See!" he cried.
It was after dinner on one of those rare occasions when they dined alone together. They were taking coffee in Mrs. Shattuck's especial corner of the drawing-room, and she had just asked her husband to smoke. She was leaning back comfortably in a nest of cushions, in her very latest gown, with a most becoming light falling on her from the tall, yellow-shaded lamp.
The smile had died out of Shattuck's face and he said quite seriously: "As far as we are concerned, Naomi, I have very different recollections of the whole affair." "Have you? And yet, months before we were married, I knew that it would not have broken your heart if the wedding had not come off at all." "My dear, the modern heart does not break easily in this age.
However, with me aboard for ballast, I guess we won't blow away. Wait a jiffy till I get after Pete." He entered the ticket office and raised a big hand to the little crank of the telephone bell. "Let's see, Caleb," he called; "what's Shattuck's number?" "Four long and two short," answered the station master.
It was about the year 1815 that and Dearborn Emerson left the Richardson tavern, and moved down the street, perhaps thirty rods, where he opened another public house on the present site of Milo H. Shattuck's store. The old tavern, in the meantime, passed into the hands of Daniel Shattuck, who kept it until his death, which occurred on April 8, 1831.
We all had a vague ideal before us of a gallant sailor, with eyes of fire and nerves of steel, plunging into the cruel surf to rescue the sinking ship. We accepted the slouching Jacob instead with disrelish. He was not the stuff of which heroes in books are made. "Jake," said the captain, "where is Shattuck's boat now? I was speaking of it to the gentlemen here."
It would have left you such a wretched memory of me. You could never have pardoned me the scandal and I felt that I had at least the right to leave you a decent recollection of me." Shattuck's head fell forward on his arms. The idea of denial or protest did not occur to him. The steady voice went monotonously on.
All kinds of sea fish and fowl take refuge in this bay and the interminable reedy marshes, and for a few weeks in the snipe-and duck-season sportsmen from New York find their way to "Shattuck's" and the houses of other old water-dogs along the bay. But during the rest of the year the wooden shed and its occupants are left to the companionship of the sea and the winds.
There was amazement even a foreboding on Shattuck's face as he paused in his walk, and, for the first time speaking anxiously ejaculated, "I swear I don't follow you!" She went on as if she had not been interrupted, as if she had something to say which had to be said, as if she were reasoning it out for herself: "Take my case. I don't claim that it is uncommon.
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