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Updated: May 3, 2025
Durrant was saying in her emphatic voice as they reached the gate. The boy Curnow became as immobile as stone. Mrs. Durrant took the reins in her hands and settled herself on the driver's seat. "Take care of that leg, or I shall send the doctor to you," she called back over her shoulder; touched the ponies; and the carriage started forward.
Lily Wilkinson Thompson, an officer in the State Suffrage Association from its organization until its work was finished. Besides those mentioned the following served on the official board: Mrs. Jimmie Andrews Lipscomb, Mrs. Nella Lawrence Lee, Miss Mattie Kirkpatrick, Mrs. Annie Kinkead Dent, Mrs. Ella O. Biggs, Mrs. Alma Dorsey Birdsall, Mrs. Durrant, Mrs. Edith Marshall Tucker, Mrs.
The Italian gentleman lay snoring with his boots off and his waistcoat unbuttoned. ... And all this business of going to Greece seemed to Jacob an intolerable weariness sitting in hotels by oneself and looking at monuments he'd have done better to go to Cornwall with Timmy Durrant. ... "O h," Jacob protested, as the darkness began breaking in front of him and the light showed through, but the man was reaching across him to get something the fat Italian man in his dicky, unshaven, crumpled, obese, was opening the door and going off to have a wash.
Durrant knew him; and therefore blushed slightly, and said, awkwardly, something about being sure looking at Mr. Plumer and hitching the right leg of his trouser as he spoke. Mr. Plumer got up and stood in front of the fireplace. Mrs. Plumer laughed like a straightforward friendly fellow.
Other boats passed them, crossing the backwater from side to side to avoid each other, for many were now moored, and there were now white dresses and a flaw in the column of air between two trees, round which curled a thread of blue Lady Miller's picnic party. Still more boats kept coming, and Durrant, without getting up, shoved their boat closer to the bank.
Durrant, sleepless as usual, scored a mark by the side of certain lines in the Inferno. Clara slept buried in her pillows; on her dressing-table dishevelled roses and a pair of long white gloves. Still wearing the conical white hat of a pierrot, Florinda was sick.
He saw his mistress go into the cottage; come out again; and pass, talking energetically to judge by the movements of her hands, round the vegetable plot in front of the cottage. Mrs. Pascoe was his aunt. Both women surveyed a bush. Mrs. Durrant stooped and picked a sprig from it. They had the blight. All potatoes that year had the blight. Mrs. Durrant showed Mrs.
P. she told you her father lived at Darenth in Essex?" "No, Mo, that's not the name. Durrant was the name she said." Aunt M'riar was straining at a gnat. However, solemn bigwigs have done that before now. "Nigh enough for most folks," said Uncle Mo. "Just you think a bit and see what she said her father's name was." "She never said his name, Mo.
She never said a single name to me, not that I can call to mind, not except it was Durrant." "Very well, then, M'riar! Now I come to my point. Didn't you tell me a'most the very first time you did anything didn't you tell me Mrs. P. she said she was a twin. And Dave he made enquiries." "She was a twin." "I'm stumped," said Uncle Mo. "I was always groggy over the guessing of co-nundrums.
The great walnut-trees at the other side of the house were huge and heavy with leaves; there was a general floweriness and pleasantness over all growing things; but the tall thin spruce that towered before the front door looked black and solitary, and bore a likeness to old Mr. Haydon himself. Such was the force of this comparison that Miss Durrant stopped and looked at it with compassion.
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