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We started in the morning at 10.30, and arrived at Liverpool about 2.30. We went at once to Cross's, but could not find the entrance to the house. We asked a shopkeeper at the corner of the street, and he pointed to a little door which we had already opened and closed twice, as we could not believe that was the entrance.
Morny was really angry, but Joe Cross's frank face had expanded into a grim smile. "What game's he been up to, Mr Rodd, sir?" "Oh, it was very stupid of me," said Rodd, wiping his eyes; "but I was afraid of laughing in his face, and the more I tried to look serious the more it would come; and I didn't want to offend him." "Just like 'em, sir," said Joe, as Rodd explained himself more fully.
Cowperwood marveled, not at Lane Cross's art nor his shawls, but at this world in which Stephanie moved. He could not quite make her out. He had never been able to make her explain satisfactorily that first single relationship with Gardner Knowles, which she declared had ended so abruptly.
"Where were you, Stephanie, yesterday?" he would ask, when they met for lunch, or in the evenings early, or when she called at his new offices on the North Side, as she sometimes did to walk or drive with him. "Oh, yesterday morning I was at Lane Cross's studio trying on some of his Indian shawls and veils. He has such a lot of those things some of the loveliest oranges and blues.
"I want you to examine the letters in this case with me," continued Kennedy. "Take the letter which I read from Miss Lytton, which was found following the strange disappearance of the note from Thurston." He dipped a pen into a little bottle, and wrote on a piece of paper: What is your opinion about Cross's Headache Cure? Would you recommend it for a nervous headache? BURGESS THURSTON, c/o Mrs.
A man clad in a burly sheepskin coat and fur cap, his feet in enormous rubber shoes, stood on the sled, slowly thrashing his arms and breathing frostily. "Hello, Sol!" the man cried to the blacksmith, who was shovelling a path from the barn to the house. "Morning, Ed. Going up to Cross's lot?" "Ye as " "Hard sledding?"
By degrees, however, he became curious as to the freedom of her actions, the ease with which she drifted from place to place Lane Cross's studio; Bliss Bridge's bachelor rooms, where he appeared always to be receiving his theatrical friends of the Garrick Players; Mr. Gardner Knowles's home on the near North Side, where he was frequently entertaining a party after the theater.
She has the darlingest new basket-carriage if she only looked like anything when she rode in it. Etta is getting ready to enter Bryn Mawr. She is all fussed up about leaving her dog and cat. Then I went down to one of Lane Cross's receptions, and over to Merrill's" she was referring to the great store "and home. I saw Taylor Lord and Polk Lynde together in Wabash Avenue."
Only the shrunken lips quivered with the weakness of years, as he looked tall young Mr. Cross full in the face. "Death of my life!" he stammered. "You are saying these things to me! It is Tony Cross's son whom I listen to and her son the young man to whom I gave my soul's treasure!"
The Southern Cross's cargo was slow in coming alongside; but, nevertheless when she was loaded, and her hatches put on, and she finally went to sea on her homeward voyage, the Flying Cloud was still numbered among the non-arrivals.
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