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Updated: July 17, 2025


Oh, what a lot of things seniors have to think about!" But the only thing to think about that evening was the arrival of the eight-fifteen train, which would bring Eleanor, the B's, Nita Reese, Katherine Kittredge, Roberta Lewis, and Madeline Ayres, together with two-thirds of the rest of the senior class back to Harding.

Phillips to Randolph, as he went out with her and Hortense to put them in the car. "I'm sure we don't want him to be burdened and miserable; and I'm sure we all do want her to be happy. George is a lovely, capable chap, and, really, he has quite a way." At eight-fifteen the telephone rang; it was Cope, with excuses, as before.

It was simply to say that he sent him round the evening paper, and a book that might interest him, and that he would be at the club at eight-fifteen. He opened The St. James's languidly, and looked through it. A red pencil-mark on the fifth page caught his eye. It drew attention to the following paragraph:

It was simply to say that he sent him round the evening paper, and a book that might interest him, and that he would be at the club at eight-fifteen. He opened The St. James's languidly, and looked through it. A red pencil-mark on the fifth page caught his eye.

"Well, nothing much, Mrs. McChesney. Christmas coming on kind of puts a crimp in the show business. Nice little bill on at the Majestic, if you like vaudeville." "Crazy about it. Always get so excited watching to see if the next act is going to be as rotten as the last one. It always is." From eight-fifteen until ten-thirty Mrs.

"Perhaps you would prefer toast and an egg?" "I have breakfasted already, Senator," smiled the detective, "but I may dally with the coffee." When the door was closed on Phillips, his master glanced at a clock on the mantelpiece. The hour was eight-fifteen. Some days elapsed before Clancy interpreted that incident correctly. "You rose early," said the Senator.

A touch of cramp. Will she be drowned? No! G. Barnert Callender, author of Fate's Footballs, which opens at the Beach Theatre on Monday evening next, at eight-fifteen sharp, will save her. See! He has her. He is bringing her in. She is safe. How pleased her mother will be! And the public, what a bit of luck for them! They will be able to see her act at eight-fifteen sharp on Monday after all.

He sighed, and, having poured himself out some tea, opened Lord Henry's note. It was simply to say that he sent him round the evening paper, and a book that might interest him, and that he would be at the club at eight-fifteen. He opened the St. James's languidly, and looked through it. A red pencil-mark on the fifth page caught his eye.

"What do you want with him?" "Have him come to the Hotel Grantham room eleven-forty-two at eight-fifteen sharp!" "He'll be there," said the Duchess. She was on fire with terrible suspense: would the other actors play their parts as she intended they should? would her complicated drama have the ending she was hoping for?

After luncheon too, I had alternate cold and hot fits, yet still continued to follow our ordinary routine. Several times I began to do so, yet always felt confused in my head, and kept hearing strange noises in my ears. I would begin 'One-two-three and then suddenly go on '-eight-fifteen, and so on, as though I were talking nonsense and could not help it.

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