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Updated: May 13, 2025
From six o'clock in the morning, the various detachments of police kept arriving until Bleecker, Houston, Mulberry, and Mott Streets were dark with the massed battalions, ready to move at a moment's notice. Rations were served out to them standing.
Mike and Rodney dispensed with the regulation breakfast and went out to a restaurant on Park Row where they fared better. "Now where shall we go for a room?" asked Rodney. "There's a feller I know has a good room on Bleecker Street," said Mike. "How far is that?" "A little more'n a mile." "All right! Let us go and see." Bleecker Street once stood in better repute than at present.
As they were passing along Macdougal Street midway between Bleecker and Houston, in front of the row of pretty houses with verandas all over their fronts Jaune suddenly gripped Brown's arm and drew him quickly within one of the little front yards and into the shadow of the high iron steps. "Look!" he said.
Bleecker watching us intently; and when discovered she only laughed, but with such sweetness and good will that it left me happy and reassured. "We have arranged that Miss de Contrecoeur is to share my room with me at Croghan's," said Mrs. Bleecker. "And, Euan, I think you should send a wagon for her box at once. The distance is short; we will stroll home together."
Besides, Lana did ever raise the devil beyond bounds with any man she could ensnare and no harm done." "No harm," I said. "Walter Butler had a hurt of her bright eyes, and sulked for months. And many another, Mrs. Bleecker. But somehow, Mr. Boyd "
Not every boy in Paul's circumstances can be trusted, but he felt sure that Paul would do the right thing by him. I may as well say, in this connection, that George Barry had a mother living. They occupied two rooms in a lodging-house in Bleecker street, and lived very comfortably. Mrs. Barry had an allowance of two hundred dollars a year from a relation.
The room which yielded so much satisfaction to the two boys was on the fourth floor of a boarding-house in Bleecker Street. No doubt many of my young readers, who are accustomed to elegant homes, would think it very plain; but neither Richard nor his friend had been used to anything as good.
Then, knowing I was on my trail, I turned around and called back softly through the darkness: "Good-night, little Lois!" "Good-night, and sweet dreams, Euan. I will be dressed and waiting for you in the morning to go to Mrs. Bleecker, or to receive her as you and she think fitting.... Is there a looking glass in that same wonder-box?" "Two, Lois."
They went deeper and deeper into the woods. Presently Strollo, who was leading the way, stopped and said: "We are going in the wrong direction. We must turn around and go back." Toni turned. As he did so Strollo drew a long knife and plunged it again and again through Toni's body. Strollo spent that night, under an assumed name, at the Mills Hotel in Bleecker Street.
"Never," said Wilton Sargent to himself, "has an American seen England as I'm seeing it"; and he thought, blushing beneath the bedclothes, of the unregenerate and blatant days when he would steam to office, down the Hudson, in his twelve-hundred-ton ocean-going steam-yacht, and arrive, by gradations, at Bleecker Street, hanging on to a leather strap between an Irish washerwoman and a German anarchist.
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