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Updated: April 30, 2025
"What are the chemicals for and the tank and hose attachment?" "Think, Mr. Gilland." "I can't; I'm almost stunned by what you tell me." He laughed. "The rosium oxide and salts of strontium are to be dumped into the tank together. They'll effervesce, of course." "Of course," I muttered. "And I can throw a rose-colored spray over any object by the hose attachment, can't I?" "Yes."
Gilland, and ask Mrs. Gilland to come up to camp. Your room is ready." "Rooms," I corrected; "she isn't Mrs. Gilland yet," I added, with a forced smile. "But you're practically married," observed the professor, "as you pointed out to me. And if she's practically Mrs. Gilland, why not say so?" "Don't, all the same," I snarled. "But marriages are made in " I cast a desperate eye upon him.
She had been to cooking-school in more prosperous days, and she mentioned it; so at his earnest solicitation she undertook to bake for him twelve apple-pies; and she was now attempting it, assisted by advice from me. "Are they burned?" I asked, sniffing the air. "No, they are not burned, Mr. Gilland, but my finger is," she retorted, stepping back to examine the damage.
Gilland; I most earnestly wish for your success. Professor Farrago left this letter for you." And that was all. I climbed back into the rickety carriage, carrying my unopened letter; the negro driver cracked his whip and whistled, and the horses trotted inland over a fine shell road which was to lead us across Verbena Junction to Citron City.
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