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He spoke in a rapid, explosive manner, like a man who has only a few moments to spare before he must rush to catch a train. John Ryder had been catching trains all his life, and he had seldom missed one. "Governor Rice called. He wants an appointment," said Mr. Bagley, holding out a card. "I can't see him. Tell him so," came the answer, quick as a flash. "Who else?" he demanded.
He sat down without invitation, expressed himself in his brassy voice about the weather, and then, instead of confiding a message, showed a mind for general conversation by asking Miss Kenby if she had read an evening paper. She had not. "I see that Count What's-his-name's wedding came off all the same, in spite of the blizzard," said Mr. Bagley.
I'll write such a letter at once. It shall go to-night." He unhooked the telephone and asked Mr. Bagley to come up. A few seconds later the secretary entered the room. "Bagley," said Mr. Ryder, "I want you to write a letter for me to Miss Shirley Green, author of that book 'The American Octopus. We will address it care of her publishers, Littleton & Co.
All the same, that Bagley money would unlock a good store of the sweets of life." He paused, and his eyes sought Florence's face again. Still they found no answer there nothing but the same painful difficulty in knowing how to regard him, how to place him in her heart.
From MRS. GOVERNOR BAGLEY, of Michigan, Lady Manager-at-Large. I regret that the long distance I am from home prevents me from sending you many valuable recipes I would be glad to contribute to your book. One, however, occurs to me that you may consider worthy a place, and, I assure you, makes a very delicious dish. Sincerely yours,
When she was sure that he was out of earshot she turned on Mr. Bagley indignantly. "You see what you expose me to. Jefferson thinks this was a rendezvous." "Well, it was to a certain extent," replied the secretary unabashed. "Didn't you ask me to see you here?" "Yes," said Kate, taking a letter from her bosom, "I wanted to ask you what this means?"
Bagley sneered and shrugged his shoulders. "Your father has warned me against your socialistic views." Then, with a lofty air, he added: "For four years I was third groom of the bedchamber to the second son of England's queen. I know my responsibilities." "But you are not groom of the bedchamber here," retorted Jefferson. "Whatever I am," said Mr.
From his concealment he watched the party, their manner of marching being peculiar, as the eight walked in Indian file. Worrell, being the guide, took the lead. Bagley kept so close that they could hold a conversation in low tones, while the Iroquois stalked along like so many phantoms of the wood.
"If you please, miss," said Sally, who was the purchaser, "mother do dearly love a cup of tea." "You ought to tell her that the cocoa is far more nourishing," said Minnie. "It would do her a great deal more good." "Ah, miss, but there isn't the heart in it that there is in a cup o' tea," said Mrs. Bagley. "It do set a body up when so be as you're low.
The treble was re-cast by John Wood, of Chancery Lane, in 1695, at a cost of £9, and the contract for this work also is still preserved. He did not, apparently, obtain the commission, for this particular bell is recorded to have been re-cast during the next year by James Bagley, of Cripplegate, London, on behalf of his father Matthew, who was then near the end of his career.
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