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Updated: June 2, 2025
"What was Miss Lloyd doing when you went to her room?" "She was looking over some gowns that she proposed sending to the cleaner's." The coroner fairly jumped. He remembered the newspaper clipping of a cleaner's advertisement, which was even now in the gold bag before him. Though all the jurors had seen it, it had not been referred to in the presence of the women.
Her flimsy silk mantle had faded from black to rusty brown; the straw hat which shaded her face was sunburnt; the ribbons had lost their brightness; but there was an air of attempted fashion in the puffings and trimmings of her alpaca skirt; and there was evidence of a struggle with poverty in the tight-fitting lavender gloves, whose streaky lines bore witness to the imperfection of the cleaner's art.
Nancy grew sick of bills, bills that came in the mail, that were delivered, and that piled up on her desk. She honestly racked her brain to discover the honourable solution; there was no solution. Even while she pondered, Priscilla in her arms, the machinery that she and Bert had so eagerly constructed went on of its own power. "The cleaner's man, Hannah?" Nancy would ask, sighing.
This base is swarming with Marines. How do you think you're going to get out of here?" "You shall see, my friend. You shall see!" Sinclair motioned them toward a door on the ground floor. "Open it!" demanded Sinclair. Tom opened it and stepped inside. It was a cleaner's closet, crammed with old-fashioned mops and pails and dirty rags.
Then we may look for strength and skill, Experience, good health, good will, Art and science well combined, Honest soul and able mind, Servants built upon this plan, One to wait on every man, Patiently from youth to age, For less than a street cleaner's wage! When the parson's gay on Mondays, When we meet a month of Sundays, We may look for them and find them But Not Now! When young Mrs.
"You recognized it as yours?" "Of course; for the paper described everything in it even to the cleaner's advertisement that I'd just cut out that very day." "Why didn't you come and claim it at once?" "Oh, Mr. Burroughs, you must know why I didn't! Why, I was scared 'most to death to read the accounts of the terrible affair; and to mix in it, myself ugh! I couldn't dream of anything so horrible."
"That is what Kitty said, isn't it, when her mother insisted on pinning down the end of her collar? Better confess at once, Mops, and get it over! Tell your mother she can send it to the cleaner's, and I'll stand the racket." "Come and tell her yourself. D-oo, ducky darling!
Studiously buttoning up the last button which she always left undone on her last pair of suede gloves, smooth as a newly born whippet puppy, and as yet unruffled from the cleaner's manipulations, she spoke with a ripple of laughter which made it impossible to decide if she was speaking seriously or not. "Madame permits herself to do just as she pleases.
He had rather enjoyed these sounds, and this rubbing and scratching on the cloth with the fingernail and a moistened rag. They indicated that someone cared. Cared about the way he looked. Had pride in him. Loved him. Nettie never removed spots. Though infrequently she said, "Father, just leave that suit out, will you? I'll send it to the cleaner's with George's.
"Besides," she added as an afterthought, "I'm so young, and so are you." "Oh, Damaris! Surely you don't want to wait until you find someone who's had lots of experience, which only means that he hasn't been playing the game as far as his future wife is concerned and will come to you like a ready-made suit returned from the cleaner's.
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