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"Still, Freddy never hit it off with Vyse much, did he? I gathered that he disliked the engagement, and felt it might separate him from you." "Boys are so odd." Minnie could be heard arguing with Miss Bartlett through the floor. Tea at the Beehive apparently involved a complete change of apparel. Mr.
"You are a wonderful judge of character, Miss Bartlett," said Yates, somewhat piqued by her frankness. "Of course I am. The professor knows ever so much more than you, but he doesn't know when he's well off, just the same. You do. He's a quiet, stubborn man." "And which do you admire the most, Miss Bartlett a quiet, stubborn man, or one who is conceited?"
A. B. Gray, Col. Emory, Lt. Michler, Lt. Parke, the Hon. John R. Bartlett, late of the United States Boundary Commission, all agree in the statement that the Territory has immense resources in silver and copper. Col.
And then Scout Harris fell asleep, and slept through the first part of the educational films. "Walter," Mrs. Bartlett whispered pleasantly, "if you don't care about these pictures why don't you just go out and curl up in the back of the car and have a real good nap. Then when we come out we'll all stop and have some cream before we go home and we'll leave you at your house."
Bartlett's countenance, superseding his complexion, which otherwise was apt to remain on the memory after its outlines were forgotten. To return once more to the drying of the premises after their reconstruction. The accepted view seemed to be that as soon as Mr. Bartlett and his abettors cleared out and died away, the walls would begin to dry, and would make up for lost time.
Do you suppose I'm going to sit face to face with a little boy starving?" "I can't see his face," said Mr. Bartlett, "but he looks as if he had the Woolworth Building in his back pocket." "Little boy," Mrs. Bartlett called in her sweetest tone, "here is some money for you. You go into that store and gracious me, it's Walter Harris! What on earth are you doing here, Walter?
"Now, we're ready for you, Mr. Carshaw," he said, lolling back in his chair again. "The Misses Craik and Bartlett have arrived for the night at the Maples Inn, Fairfield, Connecticut. Thanks to you, we knew that some one was desperately anxious that Winifred should leave New York. Thanks to you, too, she has gone.
"Did you bring it to the attention of the coroner or the prosecutor that Harry Bartlett saw my father just before-before his death, and quarreled with him? Did you tell that, Captain Poland?" Viola Carwell was like a stem accuser now. "Did you?" she demanded again. "I did," answered Captain Poland, not, however, without an effort. "I felt that it was my duty to do so.
'Now go, and be sure you have bedclothes enough before you drop asleep, she said; and Danvers directed her steps to gossip with Bartlett. Diana wrapped herself in a dressing-gown Lady Dunstane had sent her, and sat by the fire, thinking of the powder of tattle stored in servants' halls to explode beneath her: and but for her choice of roads she might have been among strangers.
It was a long walk, but the October day was cool and exhilarating. The children kicked the fallen leaves before them, and once Peter gave chase to his dog. Maizie sang little tunes, and Suzanna felt new wonderments rising within her at the beauty of the world. They came at last to the Bartlett home, but no one was about, only several carriages stood in the road.
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