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Updated: May 14, 2025
You haven't told me everything?" "I I don't want to tell you everything." She looked at him beseechingly in the silence that fell. "Must I?" she quavered finally. "You must," he said imperatively. "You must tell me everything." "Well, then... must I?" "You must." "He... I... we..." she began flounderingly. Then blurted out, "I let him, and he kissed me." "Go on," Bashford commanded desperately.
Tell Bashford I said you were to have Ramsey's place. And, by the way, if I can ever be of any service to you, Bingle, I wish you'd call on me." "Thanks. The job will be enough, I hope, Mr. Force." Force suddenly lowered his eyes. "I'd ask you to come and see Kathleen, Bingle, but but we're trying to break the child of her homesickness, of her longing to see you. Time, of course, will do it.
Flynn was a capable but cautious driver, and they would hardly reach town before five o'clock. I took a room at the Thackeray Club and pondered carefully whether, in spite of my misgivings, I hadn't better see Torrence and tell him all that had happened since his call on Mrs. Bashford.
She discovered a will of her own and wishes of her own that were not everlastingly entwined with the will and the wishes of Daisy. She was petted by Jack Hemingway, spoiled by Alice Hemingway, and devotedly attended by Ned Bashford. They encouraged her whims and laughed at her follies, while she developed the pretty little tyrannies that are latent in all pretty and delicate women.
"Such as what, Antoine?" "The widow has been telegraphing and telephoning considerable, sir." "There must be no spying upon these ladies!" I admonished severely. "All the people on the place must remember that Mrs. Bashford is mistress here, and entitled to fullest respect."
Farnsworth and I took up the recent movements on the western front I overheard Torrence putting all the machinery of the trust company at Mrs. Bashford's disposal. It seemed almost a blasphemy to be talking of income and like matters to a woman like Alice Bashford! They continued their conference for some time, but I got nothing out of Mrs.
You're not silly enough to imagine that Dutch and a couple of women can do anything out here to aid America's enemies! The rest of you ought to be ashamed of yourselves for annoying them. And as for these inquiries about Mrs. Bashford, they couldn't possibly have anything to do with the war. Specifically, who are the persons who've asked for her?"
With the explosion Ned Bashford was on his feet, no longer a tired Greek, but a violently angry young man. "Billy is not a scoundrel; he is a good man," Loretta defended, with a firmness that surprised Bashford. "I suppose you'll be telling me next that it was all your fault," he said sarcastically. She nodded. "What?" he shouted. "It was all my fault," she said steadily.
I poured a second cup of coffee, swallowed it, grabbed my hat and stick, and asked enlightment as to the course taken by Mrs. Bashford when she left the garage. "She took the lower road, sorr, toward the Sound and stepped off quite brisk-like."
Bashford," I went on hurriedly. "It is inconceivable that any one should wish to injure her or that she could have committed any act that would cause her to be spied upon. She's tremendously imaginative; she indulges in little fancies that are a part of her charm!" "Little fancies!" he repeated, hiding a yawn. "It's deplorable for a pretty woman to have an imagination; there's danger there!"
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