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Updated: June 28, 2025
"The old Breede house is somewhere about here," he said to himself. "This must be the other end of the path which we reach it by from our side. Ugh! what should a light be doing there?" Nevertheless, he pushed on. A moment later he had emerged from the forest into a small, open space, mostly upgrown to brambles. There were remnants of a rotting fence.
"Stur-r-r-r-ike one!" bellowed the umpire. "With him all morning," said Bean condescendingly to his admiring companion. "Get shirts same place," he added. His cup had run over. He was on the point of confiding to his companion the supreme felicity in store for Breede as a grandfather. But the batter struck out and the moment was only for raw rejoicing. They forgot.
I guess about some seven or eight hundred shares." "Wha'd I tell you? Wha'd I tell you?" again shouted the oldest director, and, as if despairing of an answer, he swore surprisingly for one of his refined garniture and aroma. "Find out something in this office?" asked Breede, evenly. "Why wouldn't I? I found out something the minute you sent people to me with that 'By the way stuff.
Of the interval that must have elapsed before he found himself seated in the grandstand between Breede and the flapper he was able to recall but little. It was as if a dense fog shut him in. Once it lifted and he suffered a vision of himself in a swiftly propelled motor-car, beside an absorbed mechanician.
Were they trying to assure themselves that he was a fit man to be in the employ of old Breede? He could imagine it of them; as soon as they thought about voting they began to interfere in a man's business. Yet this suspicion slept when he was with the flapper alone. Sometimes he was conscious of liking very much to be with her. He decided that this was because she didn't talk.
"Eagle shot down with its own feather," he said, hazily recalling something that had seemed very poetic when he read it. "Wha'd I tell you? Wha'd I tell you!" shouted the oldest director, doing an intricate dance step. "Hold 'ny Federal?" asked Breede. "A block or two; several margins of it," said Bean. "How many shares?" "Have to ask Kennedy & Balch; they're my brokers.
So that it would breede a frost in a man to looke abroad at that time, and see the Winter face of that Countrey. The sharpenesse of the aire you may iudge of by this: for that water dropped downe or cast vp into the air congealeth into yce before it come to the ground.
The Demon eyed him more closely. "My grandmother smoked, too," said Bean, "but I never went in for it much." "U-u-u-mmm!" said the Demon. It was to be seen that she felt puzzled. Breede slunk into the room, garbed in an unaccustomed frock coat. He went through the form of shaking hands with Bean. Bean felt a sudden necessity to tell Breede a lot of things. He wished to confide in the man.
Again Breede looked respectful, and the flapper listened, lustrous-eyed. The finish was close. With two men out in the last half of the ninth and two strikes called on the batter, a none too certain single brought in the winning run. The clinging trio shrieked then dazedly fell apart. Life had gone from the magic. The vast crowd also fell apart to units, flooding to the narrow gates.
That is how it occurred that the farmer's boy, looking in at an unglazed window of the Breede house, saw a man sitting in the light of a candle. Late in the afternoon of the next day three men and a boy approached the Breede house from that point of the compass toward which the boy had fled the preceding night. The men were in high spirits; they talked very loudly and laughed.
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