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Updated: May 25, 2025
But I tell him clo's don't make much difference with a humly dog, anyway. Come along, Lute, and put them blushes in your pocket to keep yer hands warm in cold weather. Teacher, this is our champion fiddler, inventor, whale-fisher, cranberry-picker, and potato-bugger, Luther Larkin Cradlebow!"
She got no explanation worth the name at the time of the incident. For Gwen's scattered information after the old snow-white head was safe on her own pillow she insisted on this and its owner had been guaranteed by Dr. Dalrymple, was really good for very little. The old lady was Cousin Clo's little boy's old Mrs. Picture, and she was the dearest old thing.
Here you are, miss." So speaking, she removed the duplicate check, which had been pinned to a frilled hood of the cloak. At sight of that hood a weight lifted from Clo's heart. It was more ornamental than practical, but it would be immensely useful to her. If she had been given her choice of cloaks, she couldn't have done better. Seventeen was bringing her luck.
People who have things to hide, hide 'em better than in bags. However, we'll see." When Justin had paid for Denham's drink, they went, with the bead bag in the pocket of Clo's brown cloak hanging over O'Reilly's arm. It was after midnight.
He seemed split up to the neck, like a pair o' human compasses, an' his clo's fitted so tight that he might have passed for a livin' skeleton!
There they both are, and what more can they want? She admits, however, that there is 'no engagement'! When anybody says that, it means they've been kissing. You ask Irene if it doesn't. Any female, I mean. Now go on. "A more secluded little corner of the world than Sapps Court I never saw! Clo's barouche shot us out at the head of the street it turns out of, and went to leave a letter at St.
Got any 'jections ter weuns warmin' up a little by dat fiah? Gittin' powful cold, boss, an' it jes' happens we ain't got nary a match in our clo's, dat's a fack," said the leader, advancing eagerly and holding out his hands toward the blaze. "Why, of course not, boys; make yourselves at home. I was just going aboard anyway, and the fire's yours," remarked Maurice, rising.
Clo's was shut and locked, in case Violet should break her rule and come too soon. Not only did the girl expect to find the pearls, but Chuff's key, and she hoped to telephone if necessary, before making her "bolt." Wonderful that both these chances should fall together! Clo knew that the pearls were kept in a drawer; but Kit would not go out and leave them in so obvious a place.
If they went for a short airing, they would probably leave the pearls at home. In their absence Clo would somehow get into the room next door. With Beverley's jewels recaptured, her mission in this house would be accomplished. But she was doomed to disappointment. After writing her hopeful letter to Léontine, Clo's expectations of quick success were dashed.
You can thank them for screaming, because only for that we might not have come up in time." The boy allowed his hand to run up and down his other wet sleeve. "Dem's my Sunday-best clo's, too. Mebbe mommy she won't whale me fo' gettin' dem all soaked like this," he muttered to himself disconsolately. "Don't you worry about that," chuckled Thad, who had overheard the childish complaint.
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