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Updated: May 26, 2025
Most of all, their courage was needed against fear of a region that could be deadly dangerous, but that to them seemed wonderful like nothing else. The shop smelled of paint, solvent and plastic, like most any other. Gimp, sitting in the Archer, beside the oil-burning stove, didn't say any more.
It was immediately apparent that the military man's spur had become entangled in the gimp which decorated the skirt of her dress. He caught a view of her face. "I'll unfasten you in one moment, miss." he said, with new-born gallantry. "O no I can do it, thank you." she hastily replied, and stooped for the performance. The unfastening was not such a trifling affair.
The Major first came to East Harniss one balmy morning in March came, and created an immediate sensation. "Redny" Blount, who drives the "depot wagon," was wrestling with a sample trunk belonging to the traveling representative of Messrs. Braid & Gimp, of Boston, when he heard a voice and such a voice saying: "Pardon me, my dear sir, but may I trouble you for one moment?"
"A moment," gruffed one of the guards with a slight accent. "We shall say who shall do what passing this lock. Difficulties? Very well. Names, and space-fitness cards, please, from everybody. And where you will be staying, here in Serene..." Gimp and Frank got permission to pass the lock after about fifteen minutes. Without Helen and Les agreeing to stay, it might have been tougher.
But some must have hoped that they'd get rich, themselves. Frank Nelsen was perched on his neatly packed blastoff drum in the back of one of the trucks, as big tires began to turn. Near him, similarly perched, were Mitch Storey, dark and thoughtful, Gimp Hines with a triumph in his face, Two-and-Two Baines biting his lip, and Dave Lester with his large Adam's apple bobbing.
"They are," Nelsen told him. "Passing close to Mars, which is lined up orbitally along our route," Gimp put in. "Did you beam Two-and-Two and Charlie on Venus?" "Uh-huh they're just kind of bored," Ramos said. "I even got Storey at the Martian Survey Station. But he's going out into those lousy thickets, again. Old Paul, in Jarviston, sounds the same.
Dorothea knew many passages of Pascal's Pensees and of Jeremy Taylor by heart; and to her the destinies of mankind, seen by the light of Christianity, made the solicitudes of feminine fashion appear an occupation for Bedlam. She could not reconcile the anxieties of a spiritual life involving eternal consequences, with a keen interest in gimp and artificial protrusions of drapery.
He knew how futile would be any attempt to escape under the cold hawk-eyes of the man with the broken nose. As the gig put off from the sloop's side, the boy leaned dejectedly against the rail. Pharaoh Daggs slouched up to him. "Ah there, young 'un," said he with cynical jocularity, "just thinkin' o' leavin' us, were ye, when the old man took the gimp out o' ye?"
"Yeah, there's a leader named Fessler," Gimp rasped, with his phone turned low so that only his companions could hear him. "But there are other names... Art's right. We'd better keep our eyes open and our mouths shut."
Her voice was resentful. "You'll have to see them some time." "Library curtains, gray Chippendale velvet, gold gimp, faced with colonial yellow," he read an item picked at random, "two thousand dollars! That's going some for curtains, isn't it?" "It's not too much for that sort of thing." "But, look here, Natalie," he expostulated. "This is to be a country house, isn't it?
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