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Updated: June 24, 2025
He thought that Carolyn had been in pretty fair control of herself, had been less fluttery and excited, indeed, than her employer. But Medora had been piqued, the night before, by Carolyn's tendency to linger on the scene and to help skim the emotional cream from the situation. "And in such dishabille, too! I hope you don't think she seemed immodest?"
The desert passage was still in its earlier stages, and Miss Carolyn's volubility promised to be the less of two evils, the greater being the possibility that Eleanor Brewster might seek to re-open a certain spring of bitterness at which he had been constrained to drink deeply and miserably in the past. The self-defensive expedient served its purpose admirably.
But as Sally had told me that Carolyn's father had settled ten million dollars on her, I don't think Mohunsleigh need have complained. Although it was in a house, the wedding was very picturesque, and the bride and groom stood under a bell of white roses about as large as Big Ben. There was a crush at the reception, but it only lasted two hours.
But Carolyn's hair was drawn back plainly from her forehead, and was gathered in a small, low-set knot. "Still, it's no concern of mine," he reminded himself, and walked on ahead. Carolyn's sensible shoes brought her back, with the others, at twilight.
After the bride and groom had gone, with showers of rice and satin slippers, we stayed and had a dance just the ushers and bridesmaids and a few young people, who were intimate friends of Carolyn's. It was then that my greatest troubles began.
Randolph gave himself another twist in that well-twisted sofa. "Cope," she repeated. If the boy were indeed beyond her own reach, she would report his imminent capture by another with as much effect as she could command. And she told of Carolyn's fateful letter. "So that's how it stands?" he said thoughtfully. "I don't say 'how' it stands. I don't say that it 'stands' at all.
Ryder, the mathematical lady who had given the first tea of all. "I have just heard about Carolyn's poems. What it must be to live in the midst of talents! And I hear that Hortense has finally taken a studio for her portraits." "Yes," replied Mrs. Phillips. "And she" with a slight emphasis "is doing Mr. Cope's picture," with another slight emphasis at the end.
Hortense and Carolyn came up now and then: indeed, this reading was, theoretically, a part of Carolyn's duties, but she was coming less and less frequently, and often never got beyond the headlines. So that, every other Sunday at least, Randolph set aside prayer- book and hymnal for dramatic criticisms, editorials, sports and "society." This time Foster was full of the events of Friday night.
"Carolyn June, you can set at that end and Ophelia at this end I'll set here," taking the seat at the widow's right and directly across from Parker. This placed Old Heck, Bert Lilly, Pedro and Skinny Rawlins on the right of the table in the order named, Skinny sitting at the end on Carolyn's left. On the opposite side sat Parker, Chuck Slithers and Charley.
Tea was served before the big fireplace in which a small flame to heat the kettle was rising. Randolph set his empty cup on the shelf above. "Notice," said Mrs. Phillips to him, "that poem of Carolyn's just behind your cup: 'Summer Day in Duneland'." It was a bit of verse in a narrow black frame, and the mat was embellished with pen-and-ink drawings of the dunes, to the effect of an etching.
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