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Updated: June 27, 2025
Major Duplay rose with a decisive air. "I'm afraid I'm wasting your time," he said, "and my own too. I must say good-afternoon." "Pray, Major Duplay, don't be so abrupt, sir. We've " It was Sloyd who spoke, with an eager gesture as though he would detain the visitor. Harry turned on him with his ugliest haughtiest scowl. "I thought you'd left this to me, Sloyd?" he said.
"Good-afternoon, then," said Deborah, abruptly, and she left the store. "Drive home, Abner, as quick as you can," she said. "I haven't had any dinner," Abner remarked, "You said you'd get some at the tavern." "Did I? Well, drive over there. I'm not hungry myself, but I'll pay for some dinner for you."
That wouldn't have been quite right when all these circus people were so very polite to him. So all he said was: "Good-afternoon!" And the little tiny lady in the crimson gown gave him something too, a silver button from her dress. Then the giant handed him over to a lady who sat next.
"Good-afternoon," she returned, passing on through the room. "How stiflingly warm it is here!" "Yes. I have been thinking of going into the parlor," said Mrs. Tascher: "it is always cool there, because the blinds are kept closed." "Does she say that to prevent my taking refuge in the parlor?" thought Miss Custer, and moved on and went outside.
Emerson was glad to see her coming. She returned the greeting with enthusiasm, then rose hurriedly, ran into the cold parlour and brought out one of the best rocking-chairs. She was just in time, after drawing it up beside the opposite window, to greet her friend at the door. "Good-afternoon," said she. "I declare, I'm real glad to see you. I've been alone all day.
"I I 'ave, my dear; and it's a shame of me to stand here putting such miserable ideas into your head; but I had a very hard day yesterday, for my Joe had been extra trying, and I couldn't get a wink of sleep, for after being so angry with him that I could have hit him, I lay crying and thinking what a wicked woman I was for half-wishing that he was dead; for he is my husband, my dear, after all, and Morning, ma'am I mean, good-afternoon," cried the woman respectfully.
A sallow, sandy-haired young man, with pale protruding blue eyes and thin curling lips, sprawled low behind the wheel of his roadster, leering familiarly at her. "Good-afternoon," she responded formally. "You must be in a hurry, Mr. Wiley, to have taken this short cut instead of keeping to the highway. It was good of you not to run me down, but the way is clear now."
Having delivered himself of this incomprehensible announcement, the arch-conspirator laid his significant forefinger along the side of his short Roman nose, said, "Fine weather, isn't it? Good-afternoon!" and sauntered out inscrutably to continue his walk on the Parade.
He and his brother were yoked to the stone-boat and left standing by the poultry-yard. "Good-afternoon," said he. "Is the bright-legged Guinea Hen here?" "I am," she answered, coming close to the pickets. "We are just going over to your old home," said he, "with this load of stone. Have you any messages to send to your friends?"
They had no complexions and no particular age; they wore blue tissue veils, and little jingling bags on their belts, which showed that they were not married, because if they had been, their husbands would have ordered the little jingling bags into limbo, wherever that may be. "Good-afternoon," said the leading Blue Veil.
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