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Updated: May 14, 2025
The sound of Bessie's sighs and moans came from the sitting-room. Deleah opened another door on the landing. It was that of her mother's bedroom, but she cared nothing for that. With a hand on the boarder's arm she led him in there, and shut the door. "Bernard stole the money?" she whispered. She had no thought of herself, or of who it was she held by the arm, had forgotten that he loved her.
The next morning he wrapped it in a summer undergarment and placed the said garment at the bottom of a pile of similar intimacies in his bureau drawer. And each night of the following week, before retiring, he dug it out to make sure of its safety. The day after her boarder's return from Boston, Martha went over to Wellmouth Centre.
Slawson has a lady come to board with her for a spell, that's fixin' for chills or somethin', onless she can be kep' warm an' comfortable, an' the radianator in the boarder's room don't send out much heat to speak of. Talk up polite, Sammy; d'you hear me? An' be sure you don't let on Snyder might be keepin' a better fire in his furnace if he didn't begrutch the coal so.
Aunt Olivia set down the bowl and felt of Rebecca Mary's temples, then of her wrists. The child was out of her head. "Di'mond-stones like like that boarder's I suppose those cost a great deal? As much as how much as, Aunt Olivia?" "My grief, don't you worry about any di'mond-stones! YOU haven't lost any.
Pierre the Rat, who ran "The Rathole," where penniless seamen and beachcombers lodged, was my creditor, and when Pierre was very solicitous in obtaining employment for one of his boarders, it was a mighty good intimation that the boarder's credit had reached highwater mark. "Well," I said, climbing to my feet, "I might as well take it.
Peter hustled to the office and called up the Pinkertons over the long distance." Mr. Wingate paused. Captain Sol was impatient. "Go on," he said. "Don't stop now, I'm gettin' anxious." Barzilla rose to his feet. "Here's your McKay man back again," he said. "Let's go up to your house and have breakfast. We can talk while we're eatin'. I'm empty as a poorhouse boarder's pocketbook."
Amarilly thereupon bravely assumed a cheerful mien and looked over the Boarder's figures, listening with apparently great enthusiasm to the plans and projects. But when she was upstairs in her own little bed and each and every other Jenkins was wrapt in happy slumber, she turned her face to the wall, and wept long, silently, and miserably.
"I'll paint it," said Gus, proud of his former work in this direction. Amarilly secretly resolved to select the color. "I'll make curtains and rag rugs and sofa pillows," she observed. "And I'll buy some cheers and a hangin' lamp," said Mrs. Jenkins. "Don't all this talk make you want to housekeep?" she asked with a knowing glance in the Boarder's direction.
Then her orders fell thick and fast, causing feet to run and hands to fly, causing curiosity to give instant way before the pressure of busy-ness, and a sense of cooperation to make genial the task of each. "Hush, everybody! Cora, you go make up the bed in the boarder's room. Turn the mattress, mind! An' stretch the sheets good an' smooth, like I learned you to do.
Making our way as well as we could toward the gaping rent in the deck, we saw that the turnip-bed had gone down bodily into the boarder's room. He did not hesitate, but scrambled down his narrow stairs. I followed him. He struck a match that he had in his pocket, and lighted a little lantern that hung under the stairs. His room was a perfect rubbish heap.
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