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Updated: June 27, 2025
This supposition is strengthened by the fact that the word sometimes actually was written "condon." "Du condon cependant, vous connaissez l'usage, * "Le condon, c'est la loi, ma fille, et les prophètes!"
"I wish now I'd been different," Mrs. Condon said, standing in the door. Her dress was not yet on, but her underthings were fully as elaborate and shimmering as any gown could hope to be. "And above everything else, I am sorry for the kind of mother you've had." This was so unexpected, the other's voice was so unhappy, that Linda was startled.
The woman is packing to slip away to Europe; she must meet the boy again! I will shadow him; Condon will watch the woman. Within three days they will meet, probably to-night, as the German steamers sail in two days. We will soon have them both! "I've arranged for their safe handling." "And what do you propose to do?" anxiously cried the heiress.
Some of them she was certain did not appreciate her. Mrs. Condon at once admitted and was entertained by this, but it disturbed Linda. However, she understood the reason when any nice men came along they always liked her mother best. This made the women mad. The world, she gathered, was a place where women played a game of men with each other.
This got into the papers, and Maggie Condon and her sister read it, and felt that here was a woman who understood. And she was in their own district, too. So it came about that the Maud Gonne Club became slowly transformed into a real union. This took quite a while. The girls interested used to come over once a week to the Settlement, where Michael Donnelly was their tutor and helper.
But he's all right, just the same. He's the finest little ref that ever tossed a coin." "I fear I won't get a show," mourned Joel. "You can't tell," answered Briscom knowingly. "Last year there were two fellows ahead of me and I got on for twenty minutes of the last half. Trueland bent his ankle, Chesney hurt his knee, and Condon got whacked on the head.
I told you to be asleep hours before this." "There is something you had to know right away," Linda informed her solemnly. "I only just heard it from Mrs. Randall and Miss Skillern." Her mother's flushed face hardened. "Mr. Jasper is married," Linda said. Mrs. Condon dropped with an angry flounce into a chair. Her broad scarf of sealskin slipped from one shoulder.
Having come to a decision the lad felt a sense of relief from the worry that had haunted him for many sleepless nights. When he closed his eyes in sleep it was to dream of a happy reunion with those at home. And as he dreamed, Fate, cruel and inexorable, crept stealthily upon him through the dark corridor of the squalid building in which he slept Fate in the form of the American crook, Condon.
He brought into view an unsuspected tube, with a cone of paper at its end, and bent over her mother, directing a stream of cold air against her head. "How do you feel?" he asked, with, Linda noticed, a startling loss of his first accent. Mrs. Condon so far felt well enough.
Then she wondered if she'd see Pleydon again. The Russian singer had been too silly for words. It suddenly occurred to her that the man now with her had taken Susanna Noda, and that he had left her planted. He had preferred driving her, Linda Condon, home. He wasn't very enthusiastic about it, though; his face was gloomy.
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