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They drove up past the Poor House to the Cemetery, and into the Cemetery itself, where black-clad forms were moving slowly among the graves. The day was cold, with a bleak wind blowing; the headstones looked bare and forlorn. At half-past three, driving down the Pittsville road, back toward Monroe, Rodney said: "Why don't you come and have tea at our house, Martie?"
I was icy cold, expectant, and prepared for whatever horror was upon us. The shadow became stationary. The dacoit was studying the interior of the room. Then it suddenly lengthened, and, craning my head to the left, I saw a lithe, black-clad form, surmounted by a Yellow face, sketchy in the moonlight, pressed against the window-panes!
"Go on then," snarled Brett. "Go down with him, Miles. I'll stay here with Corbett." "You go down with him," sneered Miles. "I've been up and down that ladder fifty times while you sat up here doing nothing." "Is that so?" cried Brett angrily, turning to face the black-clad spaceman. This gave Tom the opportunity he was waiting for.
"Give him a cheer, lads!" cried one of his friends. "Hip-hip-hurrah!" "And one for his red rose!" shouted another. "Hip-hip-hurrah!" "And another for the Queensland bush men! Hip-hip-hurrah!" Ned leaned over the door as the train drew away, laughing genially at the cheering and waving his hand to his friends. His eyes, meanwhile, eagerly searched the platform for a tall, black-clad figure.
None will marry her for her acres. It will be a pre sale with a vengeance. I caught a glimpse of her as we came out of harbour. I did not see the other, who is young her niece, I understand. There she is, coming on deck now the heiress, I mean. She will not look her best after a night at sea." And, with a jerk of the head, he indicated a black-clad form on the deck of the Perseverance.
Say, but I'll bet she has her lonesome evenings!" Ray Willets' eyes darted across the long room and rested upon the shining black-clad figure of Miss Jevne moving about against the luxurious ivory-and-rose background of the French Room. "She she left her folks, h'm?" she mused aloud. Miss Myrtle, the brainless, regarded the tips of her shabby boots.
"Come in, come in!" cried an old black-clad woman, with a white apron, who opened the door wider into the flaring brilliance of the lamp-lit kitchen. "I'm real glad you felt to come to one of our dances. They're old-fashioned, but we like 'em." She closed the door behind them and added cordially, "Now Mr.
The path has led to the meadows not far from the river, where I heard the merry grasshopper then sing, The black-clad Cricket, bear a second part, They kept one tune and plaid on the same string, Seeming to glory in their little Art. Shall Creatures abject, thus their voices raise? And in their kind resound their makers praise, Whilst I as mute, can warble forth no higher layes.
Gillespie to Miss Lynch, and followed her as, with out-stretched hand and cordial smile, she hastened toward the door where stood the trim, erect, black-clad figure of Edgar Poe, with his prominent brow and his big dreamy eyes, and his wife, pale as a snow-drop after her many illnesses, and as lovely as one, and still looking like a child, upon his arm.
Wordley was trying to recover command of himself, a slim black-clad figure came down the hall, and pausing before the large tin box provided for contributions, dropped something into it. Mr. Wordley watched her absently; she raised her head, and he sprang forward with "Miss Ida!" on his lips.
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