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I've had a fair offer to sell the 'Guardian' over at Simpson's Bar, and it's time I quit throwin' away the work of a man like Lacy Bassett upon it. And between you and me, I've got an idea and suthin' better to put his talens into." It was not long before it became evident that the "talens" of Mr. Lacy Bassett, as indicated by Captain Jim, were to grasp at a seat in the state legislature.
Sir Charles was often sad, sometimes indignant. Lady Bassett excused each enormity with pathetic ingenuity; excused, but suffered, and indeed pined visibly, for all this time he was tormenting her as few women in her position have been tormented.
The presumption of her lawyer seemed to obscure all other issues for the moment. Morton Bassett was annoyed to be kept waiting for an explanation that was clearly due him as her co-defendant; he controlled his irritation with difficulty.
She looked at it as a trap; not, indeed, set with malice prepense, but still a trap. She saw that Lady Bassett meant kindly at present; but, for all that, she was sure that if she told the truth, her mistress would turn against her, and say, "Oh! I had no idea your trouble arose out of your own imprudence. I can do nothing for a vicious girl."
It shall march forth over-mastering, till all lie beneath me, It shall stand up, the soldier of unquestioned victory." Bassett took the book away and stood rereading the paragraph. For the first time he sensed the struggle going on at that time behind Dick's quiet face, and he wondered. Unquestioned victory, eh? That was a pretty large order. Leslie Ward had found the autumn extremely tedious.
Owen's kitchen, as reported through various agencies; they were merely a new idiosyncracy of her aunt's old age, a deplorable manifestation of senility. Sylvia was a comfortable confessor; Mrs. Bassett said many things to her that she would have liked to say to Mrs. Owen, with an obscure hope that they might in due course be communicated to that inexplicable old woman.
Ruperta's eyes were wet at this; but she told her mother she ought not to agitate Lady Bassett, and she so ill. "And that is true, my good, sensible girl," said Mrs. Bassett; "but it has lain in my heart these nine years, and I could not keep it to myself any longer. But you are a beauty and a spoiled child, and so I suppose you think nothing of his giving you his tippet to keep you warm."
If the case had ever gone to trial she'd have had to do some explaining." "She or Donaldson," Dick said obstinately. Bassett read on: Jean Melis called and sworn. Q. "Your name?" A. "Jean Melis." Q. "Have you an American residence, Mr. Melis?" A. "Only where I am employed. I am now living at the Clark ranch." Q. "What is your business?" A. "I am Mr. Clark's valet." Q. "It was you who found Mr.
"Well, that's what I meant when I said it was all perfect drivel. You can't possibly love a chap like Gussie." "Why not?" "You simply can't." Well, I mean to say, of course she couldn't. Nobody could love a freak like Gussie except a similar freak like the Bassett. The shot wasn't on the board.
"I'm going to Dry River," Bassett said shortly. "Dry River's right, if you're looking for oil! Go easy on the brakes, old man. We need 'em in our business." Dry River was a small settlement away from the railroad. It consisted of two intersecting unpaved streets, a dozen or so houses, a closed and empty saloon and two general stores.
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