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Updated: June 16, 2025
"Why? why, it makes a flare in the sky that any scout can see, and a scent for him to follow." "We're four miles from any traveled road," returned Chivers contemptuously, "and the man who could see that glare and smell that smoke would be on his way here already." "That reminds me that that chap you've tied up that Collinson allows he wants to see you," continued French Pete.
Chivers, the senior pupil, down to the little imp Harry Hooker, who knew as much mischief at twelve years old, and could draw as cleverly as many a student of five-and-twenty; and Bob Trotter, the diminutive fag of the studio, who ran on all the young men's errands, and fetched them in apples, oranges, and walnuts.
You've got it two thousand dollars. Show me where it is, that's all, and I won't trouble you long after I close on it." "But it's not in the house," she cried. "I swear it is not in the house. Do you think Mr. Chivers would leave me here alone with two thousand dollars to guard?"
He caught the glitter of victory in his wife's eyes, and for the first time understood that she shared the belief. The discovery roused a laughter of inner devils that reverberated through all his efforts to discuss the Martha Washington ball with Mrs. Reggie Chivers and little Mrs. Newland; and so the evening swept on, running and running like a senseless river that did not know how to stop.
"Look at that biceps, sir, and now look at this that's Barker's masterpiece, sir, and that's the muscle of F. B., sir." In no company was F. B. greater than in the society of the artists, in whose smoky haunts and airy parlours he might often be found. It was from F. B. that Clive heard of Mr. Chivers' struggles and honest industry.
"I have just written to Chivers that two hundred thousand dollars will now be necessary if he wants those phonographic records. "March 11. I have had a talk with Louis, the janitor, about the Barowsky 'affairs. Three men found dead in the big chair that faces the centre-table in my living-room. The date in every case was the 21st of March.
Presently the chimney added its roar to the moaning of the distant hillside, a few sparks leaped up and died out in the midnight air, as if the pathos and sentiment of the unconscious correspondents had exhaled with them. "That's a d d foolish thing to do," growled French Pete over his cards. "Why?" demanded Chivers sharply.
There was neither shame nor pity in his heart, as the deceived man turned towards him with tremulous eagerness, and grasped his hand in silent gratitude. But the old rage and fear returned, as Collinson said gravely: "You kinder put a new life inter me, Mr. Chivers, and I wish I had yer gift o' speech to tell ye so.
There was no doubt of its truth. In the grave, upraised eyes of his prisoner, Chivers saw the certainty that he could trust him, even far more than he could trust any one within the house he had just quitted.
To shake off the question he began to talk of their own plans, their future, and Mrs. Welland's insistence on a long engagement. "If you call it long! Isabel Chivers and Reggie were engaged for two years: Grace and Thorley for nearly a year and a half. Why aren't we very well off as we are?"
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