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Very dashing!" came sputtering from his twitching lips with a fury that cast out the words like a seething stream. "She didn't shed a single tear when I left on the train. Oh, they were all very dashing when we went off. Poor Dill's wife was, too. Very plucky! She threw roses at him in the train and she'd been his wife for only two months."
This new disturbance which came through the thin partition separating his room from Dill's was like the soft patter of feet bare feet running around and around. Even a sudden desire for exercise seemed an inadequate explanation in view of the frigid temperature of the uncarpeted rooms.
Did this account for Dill's presence and not the options? The chill at their hearts shot to their feet. Mr. Dill tapped his pocket and lowered his voice a futile precaution, for at the moment Ore City could have heard a "thousand legger" walk across the floor. "I've got the papers here," he said, "all ready to be signed up if every thing's as represented."
After that he went to his room and packed what few things he wanted; and they were not many, because in his present mood nothing mattered and nothing seemed to him of much value not even life. He was more careful of Dill's belongings, and packed everything he could find that was his. They were not scattered, for Dill was a methodical man and kept things in their places instinctively.
"I want you to understand," said Quest, leaning both elbows offensively on Dill's table, "that the job I ask for I expect to get." "You might have expected that once," said the cool young man who had spoken before. "And I do now!" retorted Quest, raising his voice. "Why not?" Somebody said: "You can furnish good copy, all right, Quest; you do it every day that you're not working."
But, alas! for the sight of Odalie's home that she had loved and made so happy, and where he had been as cherished as Fifine herself, all grim, charred ashes; and poor Dill's cabin! he knew by this time that Dill was dead, very dead, or he would have come back to them. The fields, too, that they had sown, and that none would reap, trampled and torn, and singed and burnt!
Dill one cigar an' when he thanked him he said, 'Don't mention it, an' to my order of thinkin' that proves as they was n't his cigars, for if they was his cigars why under heaven should he have minded Mr. Dill's mentionin' it? Mr.
Rubiny protested that it was "inadmissible;" "hearsay evidence;" "contrary to law;" but the bench oracularly put Mr. Rubiny down, and told him they did not want any stranger to come there and teach them their business. Colonel Bethel had leaned forward at the conclusion of Mr. Dill's evidence, dismay on his face, agitation in his voice.
She ordered her coupe to go to the new building. Here she found Andrew adjusting himself to his grandiose environment, and delivered her assault. What had he and the directors meant by such a game of fast-and-loose? Why had they treated an artist of Mr. Dill's standing with such inconsiderateness and injustice? Why had they tried to handle so important a question by themselves?
Dill's orders were to get upon the ground which had been worked in a primitive way by a fellow named Bruce Burt now deceased he was told and relocate it in Sprudell's name together with seven other contiguous claims, using the name of dummy locators which would give Sprudell control of one hundred and sixty acres by doing the assessment work upon one.