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Updated: June 12, 2025
The Squire knew that in the direction of the hullabaloos were located the camps in which were lodged the imported workmen who had wrought into solid structure the plans of the mansion that Britt had held in pictured form before the eyes of Egypt. The feet of running men pounded along the highway. Somebody cried, in clarion tones, "It's Tasp Britt's new house!"
We're just two poor toilers who must do the best we can till the clouds clear away." She went to him, and when her hands caressed his cheeks he bent down and kissed her. Then they applied themselves to their tasks in Mr. Britt's bank. Landlord Files set forth a boiled dinner that day; he skinched on corned beef and made up on cabbage; but he economized on fuel, and the cabbage was underdone. Mr.
Files, left alone to meet Britt, resolved to hand that tyrant a partial sop by having breakfast on the table the moment the regular boarder unfolded his napkin; food might stop Britt's mouth to some extent, the landlord reflected. Result of this precautionary courtesy! The breakfast was a mess when Britt arrived, a half hour late. Mr.
But she slipped past while the door was open to admit Starr's bulky form. Inside, she turned on Britt, who was in the doorway. "You don't dare to keep me out, Mr. Britt!" She stamped her foot. Her eyes blazed. "You don't dare!" He blinked and entered and locked the door. There was a hanging lamp in Britt's office, and the president hastened to light it.
He could look down on the roofs of the village of Egypt and meditate savagely and that was all. Vona had apprised him of Britt's plans regarding a mansion. He could see that structure was taking shape rapidly. Men swarmed over it like bees over a hive. He did not doubt the loyalty of the girl. But he was left to wonder how long her loyalty to the memory of a dead man would endure.
Then he and Starr took the unconscious cashier by shoulders and heels and carried him to the private office. Britt's office conveniences did not include a couch; the men propped Vaniman in the desk chair and Vona crouched beside him and took his head on her shoulder. There were no visible marks of injury. He gave off the scent of chloroform.
And now to work to work!" Mr. Harnden was truly very much up-and-coming those days. He rose and shook out first one leg and then the other, with the manner of a scratching rooster. The movements settled the legs of his trousers. He had a new suit of his own. It resembled Tasper Britt's.
"It's about time for somebody else to come larruping up here after law! Don't hurry, Jared! Wait and hear what's happened to the neighbors!" The selectman sat gloomily, elbows squared on his knees, and waited. Almost opposite the Squire's office the rattle-te-bang business on Britt's premises was going on.
Harnden. She beamed on Britt. "I wonder why the dear girl is coming home so early." The caller's face lighted up with the effect of an arc lamp going into action. But when the sitting-room door opened and Vona escorted Vaniman in ahead of her, Britt's illuminated expression instantly became the red glare of rage instead of the white light of hope. He leaped to his feet.
In spite of an effort to control himself under Britt's basilisk stare, Vaniman showed how much the query had jumped him. "Of course, a chap like you has had his sweetheart down in the city," pursued the inquisitor when the young man failed to answer. "Must be one there now." "I have no sweetheart in the city, Mr. Britt." Then there was a longer silence in the room.
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