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Updated: June 4, 2025
"Well, what of it?" asked Cherry, impatiently opening her book once more; but Peace had scrambled up into the leafy retreat by this time, and she thrust a ragged newspaper page into her sister's hands, crying, "What of it? Why, Charity Greenfield, you were saying just this morning that you'd have to have some new shoes pretty quick or go barefooted on Sundays. How would you like that?
"If I give you this contract you will build the railroad into Kingston?" "When you change the line of your canal back to the original route I will change the line of my road." "Suppose I refuse?" "My railroad will not come into Kingston and I will explain to the crowd out there the reason. You have worked up a pretty strong public feeling against me, Mr. Greenfield.
No one quite liked to start the thing at first, for fear doubtless of not doing it full justice, but it only wanted a spark to kindle the whole lower school on the question of Greenfield senior. Stephen it was who supplied the spark. He entered the Fourth Juror room one day, after one of the unsuccessful crusades of which we have spoken, utterly cast down and out of humour.
Yet for week after week he lingered away from Greenfield; even months rolled by, and, except for rare and brief visits home, Hitty saw no more of her husband than if he were not hers. She lapsed into her old solitude, varied only by the mutterings and grumblings of old Keery, who had lifted up her voice against Hitty's marriage with more noise and less effect than Mrs.
Orrin S smokes a pipe, as do many of the guests. A walk this forenoon up the mountain ridge that walls in the town towards the east. The road is cut zigzag, the mountain being generally as steep as the roof of a house; yet the stage to Greenfield passes over this road two or three times a week.
"I must decline to consider any proposition at all from the Company, Mr. Greenfield." In the silence that followed Greenfield sought in vain to look back of that gray mask. He felt for the first time in his business career powerless to make the next move in the game and somewhere back in his active brain a warning signal flashed: "Go slow!" "Very well, Mr. Worth," he said at last, rising to go.
The last low-spoken words did not appear to be uttered as a threat but as a calm statement of a carefully considered fact. James Greenfield felt as a man who permits himself to rage against an immovable obstacle as one who spends his strength cursing a stone wall that bars his way or a rock that lies in his path. With an effort he regained a measure of his self-control. "Well, out with it.
But at its best the offence was a grave one, and Oliver more than once felt anxious at the sight of the head master's long face during the narrative. However, when it was all over his fears were at once dispelled by the doctor saying, "Well, Greenfield, you've done a very proper thing in telling me all this; it is a straightforward as well as a brotherly act.
I don't mind telling you that your help in the matter was of the greatest value; and when Greenfield got up in the Senate yesterday, and put in his best licks for the Wachusett route, you'd have thought they'd been struck by a cyclone.
Moll Flanders in some respects the greatest of all his books has the bareness of an Elizabethan stage in scenery and properties it is much if Greenfield spares us a table or a bed to furnish it. Of Dialogue Defoe is specially fond even making his personages soliloquise in this after a fashion and it plays a very important part in "the secret:" yet it can hardly be classed very high as dialogue.
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