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Updated: May 9, 2025
Hermann Duryea, a family relative of mine, and whose husband's horse "Durbar" won the English Derby this spring, has come to Paris for a few days from their country place near Argentan in Normandy, and is stopping at her apartment in the Avenue Gabriel. Mrs.
We figure here: cost of garment, twenty dollars; store expenses, fifty cents; profit, four dollars and fifty cents; total, twenty-five dollars. Put it on, Hattie, and let's see how you look in the garment." "Well, I declare!" Mrs. Duryea exclaimed as she allowed herself to be assisted into the garment. "You take my breath away."
The assistant district attorney returned to his table but did not sit down. "If the court please," he said rather wearily, "the last witness, Miss Duryea, by her testimony, which I personally am quite ready to accept as truthful, has interjected a reasonable doubt of the defendant's guilt into what otherwise would in my opinion be a case for the jury.
The sick man Duryea whom I had expected never to see again, afterward became the hospital steward at Fort Yamhill, Oregon, when I was stationed there. The Indians that I had passed at the ford came to the bluff above the camp, and arranging themselves in a squatting posture, looked down upon Williamson's party with longing eyes, in expectation of a feast.
The news of Max Kirschner's return spread through Cyprus like a brush fire, and twenty minutes after Mrs. Duryea had left Sam Green's store Max was holding a levee behind the old counter. By two o'clock he had greeted over fifty old friends and at least twenty of them had made purchases in amounts varying from five to thirty dollars. "As sure as you're standing there, Mr.
Duryea's chauffeur, who is a young Frenchman, says that Belgian chauffeurs have reached Normandy from the north, telling harrowing tales of the brutality and cruelty of the Germans, and announcing that the "German cavalry and armored motor-cars would soon prevent people from leaving Paris." Mrs. Duryea, who is an exceedingly cool-headed, plucky woman, came to me for advice.
They were too near their muzzles almost touching the hearts of the men, and it seemed terribly murderous to fire. "Fire!" shouted General Sandford. Three more musket-shots, only, followed. "Fire!" Duryea then cried out, in ringing tones. A swift volley ran along the line, shedding a momentary glare on the wild faces of the mob, the streets, and adjoining houses, and then came the report.
But Miss Fanny was to do much more. "Miss Duryea," began Mr. Tutt, "do you know the defendant?" "Yes, sir; I do," she answered quietly. "How long have you known him?" "Six years." "Do you know his reputation for peace and quiet?" Miss Fanny half turned to the judge and then faced the jury. "He is one of the sweetest characters I have ever known," she replied, "and I have known many "
Green passed behind the counter to reach the thread case. "Going to Sarahcuse to-day, Mis' Duree?" she asked casually. Mrs. Duryea blushed. "I'm on my way to see my sister's little granddaughter," she explained; "she's just recovering from whooping cough." "Would that be your sister Libby?" Max inquired. Mrs. Duryea started visibly. "I don't know as I " she began. "That's so," Max continued.
Duryea fairly beamed as she strutted up and down the store. "Well, Max," she said at last, "let me bring my friend Mis' Williams in this afternoon and we'll decide on it then." "But I thought you were going to Syracuse," Max rejoined. "I was," Mrs. Duryea said as she started to leave; "but I ain't now."
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