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Updated: May 31, 2025
Her linen collar and cuffs showed white against the dead black of her student's robe. With glances neither to right nor left, she slowly advanced, mounted the rostrum, and solemnly seated herself in the high-backed chair of polished walnut. Then Azzie touched the keys and gave expression to the most melancholy dirge one could conceive.
"I felt safe about coming so long as I had these," continued Azzie. "Don't be afraid, Landis. A few hairs more or less won't hurt your supper." "How will you get them back?" asked Elizabeth, who was fearful for Azzie's welfare. "I hadn't got that far in my thinking," was the droll response.
The majority of the girls were at class. Her only opportunity for seeing them was immediately before dinner or during study-hour in the evening, providing Mrs. Smiles did not keep too close a watch. She wondered what Mary Wilson would think of asking Azzie Hogan. Azzie did not take advantage of the social privileges of Exeter.
"I suppose they know you'd overdo it," suggested Azzie, lazily. "Thank goodness, there are some things I escape by not being quick to learn my part. They never tried me but once." "But you always play. I'd rather any day get up and strut over the stage, shrieking 'Is that a dagger that I see before me? than sit down and keep my fingers on the right keys," said Mame Welch.
If they do not choose to come, then they have the alternative. Good-night! Don't worry about me, Miss O'Day. I'm learning to take care of myself." Then she put up her lips to be kissed again. The following morning the preceptress did not appear at breakfast, as Azzie had predicted. The dinner hour, according to the custom for all holidays, had been postponed until two o'clock.
Well, there's luck in odd numbers." "To me there would be something too subtle, too sly, in slipping them in at the door." The remark was from Landis. As usual, Mary Wilson was the one quick to reply. "Then Azzie will not do it if there be but a suspicion of subtleness about it. Do you not know her well enough, Landis, to know when she is jesting and when she is not?"
Azzie was a genius a boarding student who put in all her time with music who sat for hours producing the most marvelous tones from instruments where other girls drew discords who would sit all day at the piano, and not find the time long; and who spent her leisure in dawdling over sofas, or playing practical jokes on every one about her.
Only the moving of the couch draperies, the gentle swaying of the portieres, or the closing of the wardrobe door gave hint as to the places of disappearance. Again came the knock. Mary Wilson with suspicious haste opened the door. "He-he," giggled Azzie, entering. "You thought it was Mrs. Smiles. Come, girls. Come out. Mrs.
The others of the party arranged themselves on cushions and chairs about her, ready to fall, tooth and nail, upon the remains of the roast chicken. Azzie would not eat, but kept her hand hidden in the folds of her gown. "You needn't be talking in stage whispers," she began, with a fine touch of Irish in her voice. "Smiles won't hear you or at least she won't be coming here.
So speaking, she drew forth her hand, dangling two sets of false fronts. "Oh, you didn't dare!" "How could you!" "You'll be sent home, Azzie." "How did you ever get them?" asked Elizabeth. To her, such an act was more than merely hazardous. It was recklessness itself. "Oh, I got them," said Azzie coolly. "I had a bit of neuralgia.
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