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"Oh, Howard doesn't mind," she said hastily. "I suppose times have changed, Mrs. Holt. And after lunch we all went out in Mr. Brent's automobile to the Faunces' in Westchester " "The Paul Jones Faunces?" Mrs. Holt interrupted. "What a nice woman that young Mrs. Faunce is! She was Kitty Esterbrook, you know. Both of them very old families."
For while he was still fond of all kinds of sporting, it was not in his former crude way; he had even become something of a connoisseur of pictures and was cultivating a respect for the purity of the English language that made him wince at Susan's and Brent's slang.
I take it that by borough authorities you mean, say, Mr. Simon Crood and his fellow Town Trustees? That so?" "Well, perhaps so," admitted the Town Clerk. "Mr. Alderman Crood, to be sure, is Deputy-Mayor. And he and his brother Town Trustees are certainly men of authority." "What do you want?" demanded Brent. The Town Clerk lowered his voice quite unnecessarily in Brent's opinion.
Suddenly through the baffled perplexity of his eyes broke the light of dawning idea, and he spoke with a greater certitude. "If these high-binders have used the wire once they may do it again," he exclaimed. "At all events that's the point to watch at present." "I suppose you mean I must loaf around there and eavesdrop for anything that may come over." Brent's tone was unenthusiastic.
"She meant to imply that I did not speak through my nose, and talk too much, and too vivaciously, in a shrill voice," Betty said afterwards, in talking the interview over with Rosy. "I like to convince myself that is not one's sole national characteristic. Also it was not exactly Mrs. Brent's place to kindly encourage me with the information that I do not seem to belong to my own country."
Brent's big bull, and she remembered how, through all his fears for her, Rupert had laughed as though he would never stop. She laughed in recollection, but more in fear. The bull had snorted, his hoofs had thundered after her, as these feet were thundering now.
Mallett, in Brent's opinion, looked precisely the sort of lady to have her say, and to have it right out. She was calm enough now, and when she had taken the oath and told her questioner formally who she was, she faced him with equanimity. Meeking, somewhat uncertain of his ground, took his cue from the witness's dramatic intervention. "Mrs. Mallett, did you call on Dr.
He spent the remainder of the morning force-breaking a setter puppy to retrieve; at one o'clock, he ate a cold luncheon, and immediately thereafter drove down to Port Agnew and brazenly parked his car in front of Caleb Brent's gate. He entered without the formality of knocking, and Nan met him in the tiny entrance-hall. "I couldn't wait until dinner-time," he explained.
Balcom leaned forward excitedly. "I do not intend to let you wreck this company because your conscience, as you call it, has begun to trouble you," he hissed. Brent's hand clutched nervously. He was afraid of Balcom so much so that he fought back only weakly. Locke was down in the hallway just in time to meet Eva and Paul as they entered.
"Up at Colonel Brent's, sir, I believe. His house fronts the parade-ground. One moment, please! Lieutenant Who, sir? The officer of the guard orders us to account for every officer by name." And Stuyvesant, who, in instant alarm, had impulsively started, was again recalled to himself, and, hastily turning back, spoke aloud: "Stuyvesant my name is. I'll give it at the guard-house as I pass."
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