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Updated: October 5, 2025
Further, Ben beat the dust out of his shoulders with a hard-falling open palm as he led the way inside. "My wife has been saying for years that you're a myth," said Gaynor, the gleam in his eyes as youthful as it had ever been; "that you are no more flesh and blood than the unicorn or the dodo bird. To-day I'll show her.
"I have a telephone in my office at Adot," said Logan. "I am using the back room of the bank as an office. I've kept the phone." "Is there an extension on it?" asked Davy eagerly. "Yes? Fine. When I get this banker on the phone, I want you to listen in. It's an education to any man to hear Ralph Gaynor talk. He's the boss of the Dollar Savings Bank in Springfield.
"Look at me!" challenged Gaynor, thrusting into notice his immaculate attire. He chuckled. "One must live down his disgraceful past for his daughter, you know." From without came a gust of shouts and laughter from the Gaynor guests skylarking along the lake shore. "Come," said Ben. "You'll have to meet the crowd, Mark.
Martin Gaynor, Deborah Haas-Wilson, and William Vogt, cast in doubt the very notion of "abuse" as a result of moral hazard in their NBER paper titled "Are Invisible Hands Good Hands?": "Moral hazard due to health insurance leads to excess consumption, therefore it is not obvious that competition is second best optimal.
She stood again looking at herself in her glass. "Gloria Gaynor," she heard her own pale lips say, "you have gotten yourself into a nasty, nasty mess." The lips began to tremble; then, with a great struggle for will-power, they steadied. "And," said Gloria in a cold, harsh little voice, "it's up to you, and no one else, to get out the best you can this time."
"Is that straight goods?" asked Gaynor, losing confidence in the justice of his wordy assault. "Yes, you're wrong, Mike," they all asserted. In five minutes Gaynor had found Carson, and apologized with the full warmth of a penitent Irishman. For a week John Porter brooded over Lucretia's defeat, and, worse still, over the unjust suspicion of the unthinking public.
And all his talk was of Gus Ingle and the devil's luck of the unlucky Seven, with every now and then a word for Loony Honeycutt and Swen Brodie." "If there is such a thing as devil's luck," said Gaynor with a sober look to his face, "this thing seems plastered thick with it." King grunted his derision. "We'll take a chance, Ben," he said.
She was near madness with the hideous, cruel travesty of such weddings as are dear to the hearts of San Francisco "society" girls. The "judge" was clearing his throat again. She looked at him curiously, with the odd sensation that while Gloria Gaynor was asleep, drugged into a deep stupor, there was within her another Gloria who took a keen interest in the smallest happenings.
No word had come to either the White Star Line or the Cunard Line, they said, that any of the Titanic's people had died on that ship or that bodies had been recovered from the sea, but in the afternoon Mayor Gaynor sent word to the Board of Coroners that it might be well for some of that body to meet the incoming ship.
If the mirror had been placed anywhere else in the universe, even by a few inches removed from its present abiding-place, would there be a Gloria Gaynor in all the world right now? Or would her chair hold quite another sort of person Mrs. Gratton?
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