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Updated: June 4, 2025
In a sotto voice and with a flow of red suffusing his face, Alphonse Michelson turned to Gertie Dobriner, his hand curved blinker fashion to inclose his words. "For Gawd's sake, cut the haggling, Gert. If this here white enamel is the carriage we want, let's take it and hike. I got to get home." Miss Dobriner drew up her back to a feline arch.
Just, 'Naw. Honest, I could have shook him. But did he run down to that little flirt of a Gert Cobb's the very same night? He did. Honest, like I said to Arch, it makes me sick. Is it any wonder the world is filled with little flips like Gert Cobb, the way the fellows fall for 'em?" "I never could be fresh with a boy. Take that time at your party.
Batch had the frontal bone of a clerk, the horn-rimmed glasses of the literarily astigmatic, and the sartorial perfection that only the rich can afford not to attain. He was staring now quite frankly, and his mouth had fallen open. "Gert!" he said. "Yes," said Miss Slayback, her insouciance gaining with his discomposure, her eyes widening and then a dolly kind of glassiness seeming to set in.
He leaned to impale a pin upon his lapel. "She's so white to me, Gert, how can I squirm if she asks me to go over the appointment-book with her to-night?" "Tell her your grandmother's dead." He leaned for another pin. "Stick around down in Seligman's. If I dust my hat with my handkerchief when I pass, I'm nailed for the evening. If I can wriggle I'll blow you to Churchey's for supper."
Do 'e think us caan't see what it all means an' the wisht cloud that's awver all our heads, lookin' darker by contrast wi' the happiness of the land, owing to the Jubilee of a gert Queen? Coourse we knaw. But't is poor wisdom to talk 'bout the blackness of a cloud to them as be tryin' to find its silver lining. If you caan't lighten trouble, best to hold your peace."
Theer 's a power o' gude in my Will, an' your eyes will be opened to see it some day. He 'm young an' hopeful by nature; an' such as him, as allus looks up to gert things, feels a come down worse than others who be content to crawl. He 'm changing, an' I knaw it, an' I've shed more 'n wan tear awver it, bein' on the edge of age myself now, an' not so strong-minded as I was 'fore Chris went.
"It must be grand to be on the stage," said Gert enviously. "Well, it's living," said Birdie, airily. "That's more than you can claim for this rotten grind." She put a high-heeled, white-shod foot on the window ledge to adjust its bow, and every eye in the room followed the process. "I bet I make more money in a week," she continued dramatically, "than you all make in a month.
Theer's more o' God in that gert shine o' buttercups 'pon the grass than in all them whey-faced chapel folks put together." "My stars, Joan!" "'Tis truth, an' you'll find 'tis some day, same as what I have." "I doan't see how any lad be gwaine to make heaven myself," said Tom gloomily. "Us had a mining cap'n from Camborne preach this marnin', an', by Gollies!
I waked from sleep an' bid un rise, but theer weern't no more risin' for him till the Judgment." "Death's no courtier. He'll let a day-labourer go so peaceful an' butivul as a child full o' milk goes to sleep; while he'll take a gert lord or dook, wi' lands an' moneys, an' strangle un by inches, an' give un the hell of a twistin'. You caan't buy a easy death seemin'ly."
Now, rising out of his brief midsummer madness, the man saw a ghost; and he greeted it with groan as bitter as ever wrung human heart. Miller Lyddon sat that night alone until Mr. Blee returned to supper. "Gert news! Gert news!" he shouted, while yet in the passage; "sweatin' for joy an' haste, I be!" His eyes sparkled, his face shone, his words tripped each other up by the heels.
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