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Updated: June 23, 2025
But after several mornings she must see that he is very strong and handsome. Then, after several mornings more, their eyes must meet, her vivid black eyes, with the tears of rage and shame in them, and his cold blue eyes. This must be the climax; and just at this point I gave my fancy a rest, while I went into a drugstore at the corner of Avenue B to get my hands warm.
One afternoon in the week before Christmas, I came upon Lena and her funny, square-headed little brother Chris, standing before the drugstore, gazing in at the wax dolls and blocks and Noah's Arks arranged in the frosty show window. The boy had come to town with a neighbour to do his Christmas shopping, for he had money of his own this year.
Ralph had quite recovered himself now, and so insisted on going alone to the drugstore to have his slight wounds dressed if necessary. Two of the selectmen looked after Sanders, releasing him of the handcuffs, and advising him "to make himself scarce" around Dalton, until the feeling against him had quieted down some.
He walked steadily down the street, greeting a night watchman whom he knew who was trying doors. He must get out of the city, and that quickly. "I wonder how the trains run?" he thought. Instantly he pulled out his watch and looked. It was nearly half-past one. At the first drugstore he stopped, seeing a long-distance telephone booth inside.
"I believe I'll have a glass of sody." "Certainly." Duncan, by now habituated to the formulae of soda dispensing, promptly produced a bright and shining glass. "I see you've been fixin' this place up some." "Oh, yes," said Nat loftily. "We expect to have the best drugstore in the State.
After stepping over the prostrate bodies from one end of the dormitory to the other, the novelist was almost overcome and when we got back to the door he begged to be taken to the open air. When we got to Chatham Square, he said "Take me to a drugstore."
She looked down at the dusty clothes and grimy face of her own little one and walked on savagely. She went into the drugstore where the soda fountain was, but it made her thirsty to sit there, and she went out on the street again. She heard Sam laugh and saw him in a group of men over by the blacksmith shop. He was having a good time and had forgotten her.
Girls in light wraps and without hats loitered in the white flare of drugstore lights. Here and there a brown stoop bloomed with a boarder or two.
"Chrystie's at San Mateo," Aunt Ellen quavered. "She's all right there. She's with the Barlows." The man in the doorway of his wrecked drugstore laughed sardonically at her request to use the phone. All the wires were broken you couldn't telephone any more than you could fly. Everything was out of commission.
"No reason for turning down there," he replied, forgetful of the gingerbread shop with the shaky little bell inside the door, the buttered gingerbread on the upper shelf for three cents and that without on the lower for two. She gathered her hopes now about Webb's Drugstore, where her grandfather sometimes stopped for a talk, and bought her rock candy, Gibraltars or blackjacks.
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