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Updated: June 23, 2025
He thought it meant impatience. She took an instant more for self-command and then lifted a smile. Too late, he was gone! "Thank you, no," said Miss Garnet at the door of Mrs. Fair's room, refusing to enter. "I rapped only to say good-night." To the question whether she had heard all the poems read she replied, "Not all," with so sweet an irony in her grave smile that Mrs.
"We can't do it," answered Valentine decisively; "while the fair's on, Westford won't even give fellows leave to go down into town." "Nonsense!" answered Raymond contemptuously. "You leave it to me, and I'll manage it all right. Now I must cut back to the office. Ta! ta!"
There's one more, but it's about as bad a piece o' sewin' as Sarah Jane's, and that looks like it'd hardly hold together till the Fair's over. And, says she, 'I don't believe there'll be any more. It looks like this was an off year on that particular kind o' quilt. I didn't get mine done, says she, 'and neither did Maria Petty, and maybe it's a good thing after all.
Maybe he'll settle right down and go to work, and pay off his mortgage, when he gets married, and get a good living, even if Lot should hold out some time to come." They watched Burr as he swung up the street to Parson Fair's in the spring twilights, with admiration for his stalwart grace, and growing approval for those inner qualities which outward beauty sometimes but poorly indicates.
The throng of onlookers and buyers had dispersed; only the auctioneer's assistants remained at work in the hall. Purchases had been promptly removed, and the house already seemed dismantled and bare. Absorbed in his search for a volume not on the catalogue, but which he felt sure was somewhere on the shelves, he became aware of Celia Fair's voice just outside the door.
"I'll have no putting yourself in the wrong to save a man that's given you the go-by. If ye be fooling me, ye can stop it now if you're a daughter of mine." He shook his head fiercely at her. But Madelon answered him with a burst of wrath that equalled his own. "I stabbed him because I took him for the man who jilted me a-trying to kiss me, with Dorothy Fair's kiss on his lips.
The Jews closed their stores. Proudfit had gone home. Enos had met a brother and a cousin, and come back with them. John March, with his hat on, sat alone at his desk with Fair's and Leggett's letters pinned under one elbow, his map under the other, and the verbal counsels of Enos, General Halliday, and Proudfit droning in his ears. He sank back with a baffled laugh.
Eugene stood still beneath the window for a few minutes. There were watchful eyes in the neighboring windows. In the tavern-yard, farther down the street, Dexter Beers and old Luke Basset stood, also fixedly staring at Parson Fair's house. "Wonder if he thinks there's any trouble fire or anything," said Dexter Beers. "Don't see no smoke," said old Luke.
I've said nothing to no one, and if I had not met you in Liverpool, and you hadn't told me that your sister was poorly off again, happen I should ha' been mum to my grave. But that's how things turn out. 'He's your own nephew, you know, said Twemlow. 'Ay! said the old man, 'I know that. What by that? Fair's fair. Meshach's tone, frigidly jocular, almost frightened the American.
Pomeroy retorted, somewhat cooled by this wholesale rising among his allies, 'and walked out Sundays only for fear of the catchpolls. 'No, but 'But I am not now, either. Is that it? Why, d'ye think, because I pouched six hundred of Flitney's, and three of yours, and set the mare going again, it will last for ever? 'No, but fair's fair, and if I am not in this, it is low.
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