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Say, am I seeing things?" "What'll I do, Kess? What'll I do?" "I tell you that you can't get away with it, girl. The old man's getting childish; they'll have to have him restrained. Why, the woman he was married to for twenty years, Lenie Goldstone, never even seen a skirt-dance. I remember once he brought her to New York and then wouldn't let her see a cabaret show.
Occasionally, a prideful and shirt-sleeved landed proprietor wielded his own hose, flushing the parched sidewalk or shooting spray against hot bricks that drank in thirstily. As Mrs. Goldstone rocked she smiled, tilting herself backward off the balls of her feet. The years had cropped out in her suddenly, surprisingly, and with a great deal of geniality.
Into it with a second and more tremulous sigh sank Miss Goldstone, her lips lifted in the smile that had been kissed. When Mr. Goldstone slept, every alternate breath started with a rumble somewhere down in the depths of him and, drawn up like a chain from a well, petered out into a thin whistle before the next descent. Beside him, now, on her knees, Mrs. Goldstone shook at his shoulder.
It was a fifteen-minute process from the curb to the first of the porch steps, and then Mrs. Goldstone leaned forward, her voice straining to keep its pitch. "Effie!" The young figure sprang around the porch pillar. "Mamma Hat! Honey, you didn't wait up for me?" Mr. Kessler came forward, goggles pushed up above his cap-visor. "Well, I'm hanged! What did you think that I was kidnapping the kid?"
Accompanying Pocahontas was a councilor of Powhatan, one Tomocomo, the husband of one of her sisters, of whom Purchas says in his "Pilgrimes": "With this savage I have often conversed with my good friend Master Doctor Goldstone where he was a frequent geust, and where I have seen him sing and dance his diabolical measures, and heard him discourse of his country and religion.... Master Rolfe lent me a discourse which I have in my Pilgrimage delivered.
She turned her face with a fling of curls to the right of her, linking closer into the soft arm there. "Listen to him, Mamma Hat! Let's shove a brick house over on him." When Mrs. Goldstone finally spoke there was a depth to her voice that seemed to create sudden quiet. "Effie, Effie, why didn't you let him go?" "Let him? Did I tie any strings to him?
He stands for a moment transfixed, and then plunges into the opening, forgetful of his original purpose in the vivid reality before him. He walks down the lane trodden century after century by countless pilgrims and enters the Cathedral precincts through the weather-worn gateway, Prior Goldstone II. built between 1507 and 1517.
Across the great arch opening into the base of the tower is the supporting arch inserted by Prior Goldstone II., who, as already stated, built the Angel Steeple above the roof-line where it had been left by Chillenden.
They live in a kind of park Forest Park Street or something or other. Why, I've done business with Goldstone & Auer for fifteen years, and my father before me! Good Lord!" "What'll I do, Kess?" "So that's the size of the fish you went out and landed!" "I didn't! I didn't! He's been asking me out the last three trips, and post-cards in between, but I never thought nothing of it."
I am sorry if there really has occurred a breach between her and my aunt." "There is little doubt about that! What a born orator is a woman!" says Mr. Gower, with deep enthusiasm. "Not one woman, mind you, but every woman. What command of language is theirs! I assure you if Mr. Goldstone had heard Mrs.
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