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Updated: June 3, 2025
Then, in its own time, this intellectual life to which such men as Hallowell ever beckon, from their heights, such men as Norman, deep in the wallow that seems to them unworthy of them, even as they roll in it. As soon as there came a convenient pause in Hallowell's talk, Norman said, "And you devote your whole life to these things?" Hallowell's countenance lost its fine glow of enthusiasm.
There were but a few people on the platform, but the first face she saw as she stepped from the car was Lem Hallowell's. It was a very red face, as we know, and its owner was standing in front of the Coniston stage, on runners now. He stared at her for an instant, and no wonder, and then he ran forward with outstretched hands. "Cynthy Cynthy Wetherell!" he cried. "Great Godfrey!"
"Bully for you, Cap!" came Hallowell's response as he continued his shouting, and the blows of that tireless whip fell incessantly on the backs of the poor mules.
"Oh, the picture's been on my desk each time you've been here," he answered dubiously. "Rainey could have told you." "As a matter of fact, I didn't," said Rainey. Hallowell's eyes lightened with interest. "Didn't you?" he asked. He turned to Vera. "If you can read my mind," he challenged "you," he added, pointing at Vance, "keep out of this now tell me of what I am thinking."
Their opportunities for recreation, indeed, were so scanty, that a barn-raising, or a husking-party by moonlight, was a thing to be welcomed. Hallowell's farm was just half-way between Gilbert's and Kennett Square, and the site of the barn had been well-chosen on a ridge, across the road, which ran between it and the farm-house.
There were but a few people on the platform, but the first face she saw as she stepped from the car was Lem Hallowell's. It was a very red face, as we know, and its owner was standing in front of the Coniston stage, on runners now. He stared at her for an instant, and no wonder, and then he ran forward with outstretched hands. "Cynthy Cynthy Wetherell!" he cried. "Great Godfrey!"
"Twenty-five, one, eight, eight, six; one thousand eight hundred and eighty-six." She moved her shoulders impatiently. "Oh, tell him to think of something difficult," she said. From behind Mr. Hallowell's chair Rainey signaled to Vance to take from the table a photograph frame of silver which held the picture of a woman. Vance picked it up, holding it close to him.
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