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Updated: May 14, 2025
Nancy received her assistant's remarks in complete silence. She was even unable to do more than nod a good-bye to him. But she shook Tom's hand in parting, and, with an air that might augur the worst, she asked him to come and see her on the next afternoon.
It was Blaisdell who sat in the chief's chair when Tom entered. "Oh, hello, Reade," was the assistant's pleasant greeting. "Where's the chief?" "Gone back to the track builders. You know, they're within fourteen miles of us now." "When will Mr. Thurston be back?" "I don't know," Blaisdell answered. "In the meantime, Reade, you know, I'm acting chief here."
He took two steps out into the street, raised his head, and fancied that he caught sight of Mademoiselle Augustine Guillaume in hasty retreat. The draper, annoyed by his assistant's perspicacity, shot a side glance at him; but the draper and his amorous apprentice were suddenly relieved from the fears which the young man's presence had excited in their minds.
Night after night, in order to fix the apex of his triangle, he had to linger on the watch for the assistant's signal-light, but he did not forget that his predecessors, Arago and Biot, had had to wait sixty-one days for a similar purpose.
You picked him, I'll have to admit that, but he certainly knows all about the game. If anything ever happened to you, I think I'd like to keep him right there." White pretended not to hear this, but it pleased him. Hayes should be aided as much as possible by him. Eugene's face fell, for this sudden twisting of the thread of interest from his to his assistant's achievements damped his enthusiasm.
"Perhaps we could talk about these things to-morrow." "As you please," said Dr. Tootle, a little surprised at his assistant's indifference. It was a drawing-lesson morning. As he went upstairs, his ears apprised him of the state of things he would find in Miss Enderby's room.
The yellow envelope which contained the few lines meaning life or death to little Hiram Joash Baker was delivered at Dr. Morgan's Back Bay office at ten minutes past ten. Dr. Payson that was the assistant's name was out, but Jackson, the colored butler, took the telegram into his employer's office, laid it on the desk among the papers, and returned to the hall to finish his nap in the armchair.
The latter looked up with such suddenness as to endanger the situation of the high hat. "Who?" he demanded. "Sh!" advised Dunham. "Miss Martha Lacey." Judge Trent placed his hand on his assistant's arm as he stared up at him. "I guess you got the name wrong, Boy," he returned, in a hushed tone. The young lawyer shook his head solemnly, but his lips refused solemnity.
All should go in his way, from the principal lightkeeper's coat to the assistant's fender, from the gravel in the garden-walks to the bad smell in the kitchen, or the oil-spots on the store-room floor. It might be thought there was nothing more calculated to awake men's resentment, and yet his rule was not more thorough than it was beneficent.
"I see," said Rossiter, satisfied, and feeling now that the interview had lasted long enough and that there would be just time to glance at his assistant's afternoon work before he dressed for dinner.... "Well, old chap. Good-bye for the present. Come often and see us and look upon me I must be fifteen years older than you are What, twenty-four? Impossible!
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