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Updated: June 13, 2025
Below the Bank was a suite of three or four rooms with barred windows, which had the appearance of a jail for criminal rats. Above the Bank was Mrs Gowan's residence.
When the remembrance of her past danger had faded out of the family mind, and the whimsical side of the matter presented itself, they would have teased her, and Dolly felt that such a course would be far from safe. So she caught at Ralph Gowan's plan eagerly. Still she felt an excited thrill when the cab drew up before the door of the hotel. Suppose they should not find her?
Behind him the instrument toppled over towards the brink. Genevieve cried out in alarm at Gowan's fall. Her husband sprang to the rescue not of the puncher, but of the level. It had crashed down with its head to the chasm, and was sliding out over the brink. Blake barely caught it by the tip of one of the legs as it swung up for the plunge.
She took the reins from him and spoke to the fidgetting broncos. They plunged forward and started off on a lope. Ashton perceived that she did not intend to wait for him. He caught Gowan's look of mingled exultance and envy, and dashed for the corral. Rocket was outside, but at his call trotted to meet him, whinnying for his morning's lump of sugar.
He must put to its best use the weapon she had placed in his hand, when there was so much all the world, in fact to gain. "Do your best," said Preciosa, mindful of the portfolios that Little O'Grady had lugged downstairs and had opened in Festus Gowan's studio. "Leave them all behind," she added, feeling as keenly as ever the smart of her feeble complaisance toward Virgilia Jeffreys.
"Oh!" she cried, the moment she could speak, "Oh, Daddy! don't you see? He really thinks we're a bunch of wild and woolly bandits!" The hunter looked uncertainly from her dimpled face to Gowan's ready revolver. Turning sharply about to the cowman, he caught him in a reluctant grin. With a sudden spring, he placed the girl between himself and the scowling puncher.
You need no excuse for refusing to have your house and it is your house opened to a riotous party of drunken soldiers for aught you know. Now go down. Do anything you can to gain time for me. Heaven bless you, darling, till we meet again!" Lady Gowan's answer was to hurry out on the staircase, where the place was echoing to the resounding knocks and orders to open in the King's name.
In the modest truthfulness of always keeping in view the greater equality of Mr Gowan's years and the greater attractions of his person and manner, there might have been a little merit. But, after the resolution he had made, of course he could have no such merits as these; and such a state of mind was nobody's nobody's. Mr Gowan made it no concern of his whether it was nobody's or somebody's.
They gazed in each other's eyes for a few moments, as if deaf to the sounds below-stairs, which told that the soldiers had at last gained an entrance. Then a change came over Lady Gowan's face, her upper lip curled, and a look of haughty scorn shone from her eyes. "They are coming up, my boy," she cried. "Leave me to speak."
Preciosa set the day; Little O'Grady traced Prochnow's name in elaborate letterings and clapped this new placard over Gowan's own; and all waited intent to see just what of interest would develop in the countenance of the daughter of the McNultys, and just what Ignace Prochnow would be able to make of it. Nor did she find in her painter any of Dill's soft suavity.
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