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Updated: May 3, 2025
It was too strong, too much alive, to be killed by the facts of one single night. No; it had been ailing for months; but it finally died, six weeks ago, and nothing now can ever make it live again. Miss Gannion, I have been very selfish." "I don't think so, Beatrix." But Beatrix gently drew herself out of Miss Gannion's arms, rose and stood looking down at her friend.
"Arlt will like it a great deal better, and so shall I. He is a shy fellow, and he never shows at his best, when too many people are about." Miss Gannion's face betrayed her relief. She had not meant to seem inhospitable; neither had she desired apparently to be scheming for a free recital.
It would be a parallel case; but what would be the effect upon literature?" Arlt rose deliberately and crossed the room to the empty chair at Miss Gannion's side.
To be sure, I am quite likely to settle them wrongly; but that renews my confidence in churchly methods, so some good is gained, after all." Bobby deliberately placed himself in the chair which long experience of Miss Gannion's house had taught him best fitted the angles of his anatomy. "We came to have you settle a problem for us," he said; "so we are glad your hand is in."
All at once, he realized that Margaret Gannion included among her friends Beatrix Dane, and that it was Margaret Gannion's habit to fight for her friends. "I had hoped you would understand without my putting it into so many words. Lorimer has been my friend for years, and it seems rather beastly to begin talking him over; but " "But?" Miss Gannion's tone was as hard and ringing as steel.
"As if I owed a great deal to you." The girlish pink flush rose in Miss Gannion's cheeks. "Thank you, dear boy. But really I have done nothing." Arlt turned his back to the piano and, clasping his hands over his knees, spoke with simple gravity. "Miss Gannion, here in America, I have had three good friends, Mr. Thayer, you, and Miss Van Osdel. Everybody knows what Mr.
Miss Gannion asked. "Whether we ought to tell Miss Dane," he answered briefly. "It will kill her." The feminine in Margaret Gannion was uppermost once more. "Such wounds are more likely to mangle than to kill." Thayer spoke grimly. "Poor Beatrix!" "She does love him, then? I didn't see how she could help it." Margaret Gannion's hands shut on a fold of her skirt.
Already the tug and wrench upon her nerves was slackening, and Miss Gannion's words brought the swift revulsion. The older woman shrank before the storm of passionate sorrow.
Well, if she is, I shall have to revise my notions of the Lord," Bobby responded hotly. Miss Gannion's smile never wavered. She knew Bobby Dane too well to resent his occasional outbursts. "Bobby, my dear boy," she said, with the maternal accent she assumed at times; "this isn't too easy a problem for any of us; but the hardest part of its solution is coming on Beatrix.
Miss Gannion's hands unclasped, and she looked up at him with the pitiful, drooping lips of a frightened child. Like Thayer, she too loved Lorimer. "It is terrible, Mr. Thayer. I can see no way out of the trouble; it stands on either side of the path. But do you think she could hold him, if she were to try?" "It is an open question.
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