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Updated: May 16, 2025
"B-e-l-l-a-y-n-e. Yes, that's it." He scribbled it into a notebook. "All right. Take your turn Wednesday and Saturday." "How much do I get?" Edna demanded. "Two-an'-a-half a turn. Two turns, five. Getcher pay first Monday after second turn." And without the simple courtesy of "Good day," he turned his back on her and plunged into the newspaper he had been reading when she entered.
Jennie mumbled her question. Said the crossing policeman: "Getcher car on Wabash, ride to 'umpty-second, transfer, get off at Blank Street, and walk three blocks south." Then he put the whistle back in his mouth, blew two shrill blasts, and the horde of men, women, motors, drays, trucks, cars, and horses swept over him, through him, past him, leaving him miraculously untouched.
Then before any one could stop him or even saw what he was going to do, the minister sprang forward up the ladder like a cat, two rounds at a time, three! He dashed through the fire and was gone! For an instant it seemed that the people would go mad with the horror of it. Those two! Even the Fire Chief paused and seemed petrified. It was Billy who sensed the thing to do. "Getcher canvas man?
I have spoken to you about them both very frequently." "And about two others as well," said the lady, with a very decided Flemish accent. "Madame is Dutch?" inquired D'Artagnan. Porthos curled his mustache, a circumstance which was not lost upon D'Artagnan, who noticed everything. "I am from Antwerp," said the lady. "And her name is Madame Getcher," said Planchet.
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