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The national president, Mrs. Carrie Chapman Catt, gave six weeks of time to the campaign and liberal contributions of money, as she considered Iowa her State, having spent a large part of her life there. The honorary president, Dr. Shaw, other national officers, State presidents and men and women suffragists from many other States rendered valuable help in time, money and service of all sorts.
"I am naturally anxious about them," said Gordon, "in the interest of the government, of course, for I believe they hold the key to a mystery I am asked to solve." "You may be mistaken as to the contents of the papers," laughed Mr. Shaw. "Well," he added, "we will eliminate them from the matter in hand. What next, Mr. Nestor?
But the true facts are that within three days of Mademoiselle's recovery of her mental balance, old Giulio Cataldi made a sworn statement to the police at Nice, and in consequence two gendarmes of the Department of Seine et Oise went one night to a small hotel at Provins, where they arrested the Englishman, Shaw, alias Howell, who had gone there in what he thought was safe hiding.
In approaching this play we must keep well in mind the distinction recently drawn: that Shaw follows the banner of life, but austerely, not joyously. For him nature has authority, but hardly charm. But before we approach it it is necessary to deal with three things that lead up to it.
Upon this, they both got out of the chariot, and Shaw shaking the cushion that covered the seat hastily, the long bag fell out with its mouth open, and all its bright contents were scattered on the ground.
Not until this year could one of Great Britain's statesmen declare: "You can damn the Germans until you are blue in the face, but that will not beat them." Professor Charles Gray Shaw, of New York University, stated before one of his classes in philosophy that there was a new "will" typified in certain of our citizens, notably in President Wilson.
He had nothing to say as to the position Shaw had taken up, and he had to submit to the modification of many stringent conditions in the deed of sale, before Shaw would give way. Such, sketched in a hasty manner, is an attempt to portray the apparently contradictory character of Charles Shaw. It may be a failure; but it, at least, is an honest endeavour.
The blood of red wrath was seething in Mrs. Catanach's face: she drew herself up and stood flaming before him, on the verge of explosion. "Gang frae the hoose," said Malcolm, "or I'll set the muckle hun' to shaw ye the gait." Her face turned the color of ashes, and with hanging cheeks and scared but not the less wicked eyes she hurried from the room.
The men themselves made no objection, nor would they have made any had the journey been more dangerous; for Henry was without fear, and the other two without thought. Shaw and I were much better fitted for this mode of traveling than we had been on betaking ourselves to the prairies for the first time a few months before. The daily routine had ceased to be a novelty.
But it is also something much better than Shaw. The writer touches certain realities commonly outside his scope; especially the reality of the normal wife's attitude to the normal husband, an attitude which is not romantic but which is yet quite quixotic; which is insanely unselfish and yet quite cynically clear-sighted. It involves human sacrifice without in the least involving idolatry.
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