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"Sleep tight, beautiful! Good night!" "Good night, beautifulest!" She stood poised forward on the topmost step, watching him between backward waves of the hand crank, throw his clutch, and steer off. Then she turned inward, a sigh trembling between her lips. "Oh, Mamma Hat, I " But Mrs. Goldstone's chair was empty.
At Canterbury, too, he first to his knowledge saw Americans. His shop did a good class trade in Westgate Street, and he would see them go by on the way to stare at Chaucer's "Chequers," and then turn down Mercery Lane to Prior Goldstone's gate. It impressed him that they were always in a kind of quiet hurry, and very determined and methodical people, much more so than any English he knew.
I.W. Goldstone's home, so near the park that, in spring, the smell of lilacs and gasolene hovers over it, pretends not to period or dynasty. Well detached, and so far back from the sidewalk that interlocking trees conceal its second-story windows, an alcove was frankly a bulge on its red-brick exterior.
The chief gate, both in ancient and modern days, is Prior Goldstone's Gate, usually known as #Christ Church Gate#, an exceedingly good example of the later Perpendicular style. A contemporary inscription tells us that it was built in 1517. It stands at the end of Mercery Lane, a lofty building with towers at its corners, and two storeys above the archway.
"How how dared you! It's after two, and " Miss Goldstone began then to jump again upon her toes, linking her arm in his. "Tell her, Leon! Tell her! Oh, Mamma Hat! Mamma Hat!" She was suddenly in Mrs. Goldstone's arms, her ardent face burning through the white wrapper. Mr. Kessler removed his cap, flinging it upward again and catching it. "Tell her, Leon!"
"Why, he can't get away with this!" "Why?" "They won't stand for it out in that Middle West town. He's the head of a big business. He's got a grown daughter." "He's got her fixed, Kess settled on her." "Hattie Becker, Mrs. I.W. Goldstone! Gad! can you beat it? Can't you just see me, when I come out to St. Louis pretty soon, having dinner out at Mrs. I.W. Goldstone's house?
"Well, any girl in town would be glad to get herself talked about if Leon Kessler was rushing her." "Effie, I won't let you I won't " Miss Goldstone unhinged her arm, jerking it free in anger. "Well, I like that!" "Effie, I " "You ain't my boss!" "Effie!" "But, papa, she " There was a booming in Mr. Goldstone's voice and a suddenly projected vibrancy. "You apologize to your mother this minute!
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