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You'd think there'd be a show there for a pretty girl; well, there ain't. It's retail trade; one girl can sell about as many papers of pins in a day as another." "Some pretty cloak and suit models get big wages," said Cadge. "Yes, in the jobbing houses. That's wholesale trade, and every dicker counts. Have to corset themselves to death, though." "It's a fact," Cadge put in.
Get the hawks, Bill; the sun be up. A' must be off to Stratford shortly," answered the squire, glancing at the poet. Whereupon the yeoman opened the door of a long covered shed commonly called the "mews," and shortly appeared again with four hooded hawks two falcons, and two males or tiercel-gentles placed on a wooden frame or cadge.
It was a night to remember! The big Indians of the canvasses peeped grimly from ambushes of flowers and tall ferns, as the studio door opened and Kitty came running to meet me, her cheeks flushed and her curls in a hurricane. "'Most time for the minister," she cried breathlessly, "and not a sign of Cadge! Not a sign!
John sent a box the extravagant boy! and there were big American Beauty roses, with stems as long as walking sticks from Pros. and Cadge. Milly had flowers, too, from Mr. Hynes. At first I wasn't a bit afraid, while acquaintances were dropping in one by one Mrs. Magoun, Mrs. Crosby, the wife of the managing clerk in Uncle's office, Aunt Marcia all allies.
Look out for squalls. All off for a drink. Arm in arm. Lenehan's yachting cap on the cadge beyond. Usual blarney. Wonder is that young Dedalus the moving spirit. Has a good pair of boots on him today. Last time I saw him he had his heels on view. Been walking in muck somewhere. Careless chap. What was he doing in Irishtown?
"What's His Lordlets doing in New York?" inquired Pros., who was there as usual, a queer and quiet wooer. "Tinting the town a chaste and delicate pink, assisted and chaperoned by his cousin, the Hon. Stephen Allardyce Poultney. Ugh! Glad the Star doesn't want an interview with His Geniality; don't like S.A.P. Esq.," said Cadge energetically.
She suddenly felt the complete loss, the final departure of youth, and she accepted it like a fallen goddess, and refused even the sudden and startling renewal of Sir Cadge Vanneck's devotions.
"Talking wedding?" that tease asked, following me back into the parlour and pirouetting before a mirror. "Chastening experience for once in a way to see mysel' as ithers see me. Big wedding, won't it be? Florist told Cadge he was forcing a churchful of peach and apple blossoms. You're a bridesmaid, ain't you? That was Mrs. Henry? Know I've seen her here.
He is quicker than my Aunt; he divined the source of the Star article, and he almost forbade me to cleave to such an indiscreet friend. "Oh, last night won't happen again," I said carelessly; "and you don't know Cadge; she's as good as the wheat." I wasn't listening to him.
Why, of course, Helen, you'll want to make a statement. I 'phoned the Star photographer to meet me here, but he's failed to connect. However, Kitty can sketch " "Oh, Miss Bryant!" wailed Aunt. "An interview! How frightful! Can't you let her off?" "Why, I don't exactly see how though I might " Cadge deliberated, studying Aunt's face rather than mine, " might wait and see the red extras.
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