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Updated: June 18, 2025
"As the boss, he ought to be told promptly of any injury to an employe." "Never mind Dirty Dan," she retorted. "He'll hear of it soon enough. Let us congratulate Mr. Tingley on his sermon." Donald, having turned his back on them almost rudely, strode down the street to his car and motored back to The Dreamerie.
And The Dreamerie, the house his father had built with such great, passionate human hopes and tender yearnings, the young laird of Port Agnew could abandon without a pang for that little white house on the Sawdust Pile.
"It is important," he informed her, "that you, Miss Jane and Miss Elizabeth come down to my office to-morrow for a conference. I would come up to The Dreamerie to see you, but Donald is home now, and his father will be with him; so I would prefer to see you down-town. I have some news of interest for you." The hint of news of interest was sufficient to secure from Mrs.
Nevertheless he wished he knew and that afternoon he spent the entire time on the terrace at The Dreamerie, searching the Sawdust Pile with his marine glasses, in the hope of seeing Donald moving about the little garden. But he did not see him, and that night his sleep was more troubled than usual. On the following Sunday Nan was not accompanied by her husband either.
Andrew Daney whirled; his wife glanced up, startled, then half rose and settled back in her chair again, for her legs absolutely refused to support her. Standing at the foot of the three steps that led off the veranda was Hector McKaye! "I drove Donald down from The Dreamerie to catch the up train, and thought I'd drop over and visit with you a bit," he explained.
With maternal stubbornness, she resolutely refused to entertain the thought that her son might die. 'Fraid-cats every last one of them! She told old Hector so and, to a considerable extent, succeeded in making him believe it. After The Laird's interview with Andrew Daney he came home that night to The Dreamerie, and, to please Nellie, he pretended to partake of some dinner.
"Perhaps you'd better let Darrow keep him for a while. G g good-night!" Outside, his chauffeur waited with his car. "Home and be quick about it," he mumbled and crawled into the tonneau slowly and weakly. As the car rolled briskly up the high cliff road to The Dreamerie, the old man looked far below him to the little light that twinkled on the Sawdust Pile.
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