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"If it is so bright to us at this distance, it must be almost terrible to those near by. I suppose they are all up there just in front of it, and Burt is so reckless." She was about to say Webb, but, because of some unrecognized impulse, she did not. The utterance of Burt's name, however, was not lost on Miss Hargrove.
Most of the strangers who come here, though, seem to prefer to pass on rather than stop, and Miss Webb thinks it's on account of the blood. A little red mixed in might wake Yorkburg up, she says, and that's what it needs to know the war is over and the change has come to stay. But I love Yorkburg, and most of the people are dear. Some queer. Old Mrs. Peet is.
While it was true that the old-time, "professional jurymen" men who hung around the courthouse for no other purpose were no longer in existence, it can be readily seen that Webb was able, if it were worth while, to exercise a judicious eye in the selection of "amenables."
I'm no authority on clothes, but my secretary is. I'll have him take you to a tailor where you can rent a suit for to-night. He'll take your measure, and by the end of the week . . ." He did not finish the sentence, but pressed one of the many buttons on his desk. "Clark, this is Mr. Webb, Mrs. Killigrew's secretary. He wants some clothes. Take him along with you."
What they meant God knows; and you shall know, if you rightly read the primer of events. "Be the cattle-queen," said Webb; "and overlook it if you can. I was a mangy, sheep-stealing coyote." "Hush!" said Santa again, laying her fingers upon his mouth. "There's no queen here. Do you know who I am? I am Santa Yeager, First Lady of the Bedchamber. Come here."
Stephen's upon his glorious old crutch and stick, and cheered him as loud as they had ever done Marlborough. That great Duke was utterly disgraced; and honest old Webb dated all his Grace's misfortunes from Wynendael, and vowed that Fate served the traitor right.
"Ten-thirty?" "Yes; and I'm going to post a notice that every one is to be ready at ten. Then I'll be sure of them," Polly said. "I wish we could take Maud as a sub, instead of Caroline Webb," Lois said, slowly. "She's worth more." Polly shook her head. "It doesn't matter, really," she said. "Our sub-team is so weak that we simply can't rely on it.
Anderson, Baker, W. Graves, Moorman, Strickler, and Webb have all been on visits to their sweethearts, and have left without them. 'Mrs. Smith' is as usual. Smith" and "Gus" were the names of two of the pet cats of my sister. All unite in love to you. "Your affectionate father, "R. E. Lee. "Miss Mildred Lee."
"Good gracious!" exclaimed Maggie, "if Webb should concentrate his mind on you as you suggest, it would end by his falling in love with you." This speech was received with shouts of merriment, and Amy felt the color rushing into her face, but she scouted the possibility. "The idea of Webb's falling in love with any one!" she cried. "I should as soon expect to see old Storm King toppling over."
"All right," called Cleghorn, giving a few strokes of the pump, but never taking his eyes from the lustred pots. Then as if by a sudden inspiration he asked, "Any more in that lot, Dick?" "Not a one," cried Webb jubilantly, "there was just a bucketful and a squeeze at that. But there may be others beneath. There's another bottom-stone, and it's your next turn. But why don't you hurry up?"
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