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Updated: May 6, 2025
With his fine nose and keen eyes set at a slightly downward angle, creased at the corners with his thick, greying hair, despite his comparative youth he had the look one associates with portraits of earlier, patriarchal Americans.... These calls of Janet's were never of long duration.
Different parts of his life flashed at him, all out of order and irrelevantly. How near, too, had he just passed to the Ketterings! Cleo's father rose before him again with his greying hair and his good face, bent, aproned, and in corduroys, just as he was wont to stand in the Dover workshop.
Brent threw back his head and laughed. "You haven't got it anyway, Warry," he cried. Mr. Trowbridge, who resembled a lean and greying Irish terrier, maintained that he had. "It's a pity you don't ride, Lula. I understand that that's one of the best preventives for gout. I bought a horse last week that would just suit you an ideal woman's horse. He's taken a couple of blue ribbons this summer."
The thunderstorm came rollicking down the valley, crashed and rolled and roared for half an hour or so, and then stole mumbling away in the night, leaving in its wake a sighing wind and the drip of forsaken raindrops. He was astir at cockcrow. The first faint glow of red in the greying east found him at breakfast, with Zachariah sleepily serving him with hot corn-cakes, lean side-meat and coffee.
Brent threw back his head and laughed. "You haven't got it anyway, Warry," he cried. Mr. Trowbridge, who resembled a lean and greying Irish terrier, maintained that he had. "It's a pity you don't ride, Lula. I understand that that's one of the best preventives for gout. I bought a horse last week that would just suit you an ideal woman's horse. He's taken a couple of blue ribbons this summer."
Sara waited waited with an intensity of longing that was well-nigh unendurable for either the indignant denial or the easy, mirthful scorn wherewith an innocent man might be expected to answer such a charge. But there came neither of these. Only silence an endless, agonizing silence, while Garth stood utterly motionless, looking at her, his face slowly greying.
Then she stood up and felt the force conveyed in the personality of George Askew, as he towered over her, a man of unusual height. She looked up at the large kind face the long sad wards knew so well. The lines of thought were deeply graven below a broad forehead thinly crowned with yellow hair now fast greying. He showed no sign of impatience.
It was not so easy to tear her out of his heart, she had intertwined so deeply there ... eight years with a woman, and one child by her, and affection for her was no easy thing to root up from one's being. "I sat there a long while with him in Riverside Park," Darrie reported, "it was chilly and he wore an old overcoat because he couldn't afford a new one. His hair was greying at the temples.
Beside him was a man with greying hair and a very red face, who was talking to a small lady of deceptive age a very pretty, dark, bright-eyed little lady, charmingly dressed, with hair of shining blackness arranged about her head in dozens of little tight curls. She and the elderly man were talking animatedly.
It was very beautiful out on the porch, greying twilight, and young little stars just coming into being, all aquiver as if frightened. The talk turned to Missy's imminent visit. "Aren't you afraid you'll get homesick?" asked grandma. It was Missy's first visit away from Cherryvale without her mother. A year ago she would have dreaded the separation, but now she was almost grown-up.
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