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Updated: June 4, 2025
Gertie's letters would contain: "Harold Beecham, he makes me call him Harry, took me to Five-Bob last week, and it was lovely fun." Again it would be: "Harry says I am the prettiest little girl ever was, Caddagat or anywhere else, and he gave me such a lovely bracelet. I wish you could see it." Or this: We all went to church yesterday. Harry rode with me.
All these facts were remembered, and when the block system of signalling was introduced on that part of the line Sam was made a signalman. The scene of his new labours was an elevated box at the side of the line, not far from Gertie's home. As this box was rather curious we shall describe it.
He did not draw swift comparisons between Gertie's immobility and Ruth's lightness. He was used to Gertie; was in her presence comfortably understanding and understood; could find whatever he expected in her as easily as one finds the editorial page or the sporting page in a familiar newspaper.
Eddie had been included, but after his quarrel with Howard Griffin, a Plato College freshman who was spending the vacation with Ray Cowles, it had been explained to Eddie that perhaps he would be more comfortable not to come to the party. Gertie's brother, Murray, or "Ray," was the town hero. He had captained the high-school football team.
Mills was waiting on the Friday evening, some doors east of her own shop; Gertie's new friend did not wait for instructions from his companion, but left her instantly. "Who's looking after the counter, aunt?" "Mr. Bulpert," replied the other, panting. "I've give him a cigar to stick in his face. He wants to see you. And I want to see you, too. Who is that you were talking to?"
Gertie's entrance in this instance was certainly effective, for she paused dramatically on the middle of the floor, threw up her hands, rolled her eyes, and exclaimed, "I've just heard something perfectly awful. What DO you think? Mr. For once in her life Gertie Pye made all the sensation she desired. If she had thrown a bomb among the complacent Improvers she could hardly have made more.
It was a house that, he believed, he had never seen before. When he reached it he stood for fully a minute, afraid to move. But from across the creek whimpered Gertie's call: "Carl, oh, Carl, where are you?" He had to hurry. He crept along the side of the shack to the window. It was too high in the wall for him to peer through.
Before the twelve-story Bendingo Apartments, Carl scanned the rows of windows which pierced the wall like bank-swallows' nests in a bold cliff.... One group of those windows was home Joralemon and memories, Gertie's faith and understanding.... It was she who had always understood him.... In anticipation he loitered through the big, marble-and-stucco, rug and rubber-tree, negro hallboy and Jew tenant hallway.... What would the Cowleses be like, now?
Through many a dark winter day she had pictured to herself how beautiful the prairie must be, clad in all the verdant livery of the most wonderful of the seasons. And yet it would mean a new solitude and loneliness to her, her husband, of necessity, being away through all the long daylight hours. She began to understand Gertie's dread of having no one to speak to.
When I left here I went down to the store and hung around till the mail was sorted. Pat Starkey was doin' the sortin', Beriah bein' too upsot by Gertie's gettin' married to attend to anything. Pat called me to the mail window and handed me a letter. "'It's for Olive Edwards, he says. 'She's been expectin' one for a consider'ble spell, she told me, and maybe this is it.
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