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Updated: May 23, 2025
That evening, alone in the library, he and Madeline had their first long, intimate talk, the first since those days to him they seemed as far away as the last century when they walked the South Harniss beach together, walked beneath the rainbows and dreamed. And now here was their dream coming true. Madeline, he was realizing it as he looked at her, was prettier than ever.
"That night everybody but the billiard-room gang sent in their resignation to that club. We refused to be bossed by such people. Gabe resigned, too. He was disgusted with East Harniss and all hands in it. He'd have took back the clubhouse, but he couldn't, as the deed of gift was free and clear. But he swore he'd never give it another cent.
That's what you mean, I presume likely." "That's it, Shadrach." "Um yes. Well, there's just one thing that makes that notion seem consider'ble more than unlikely. How in the world could she have found out that there ever was an Edgar Farmer " "Good many folks in South Harniss could have told her that if they'd had a mind to."
If she had attended as often as Madeline did she might have guessed and saved herself much. But she was busy organizing, in connection with Mrs. Seabury Calvin, a Literary Society among the summer people of South Harniss. The Society was to begin work with the discussion of the poetry of Rabindranath Tagore. Mrs. Fosdick said she doted on Tagore; Mrs.
But I have got hold of that antique davenport she's been dying to capture." One of the boarders at the hotel over to Harniss had been out antiquing a week or so afore and had bagged a contraption which answered to the name of a "ginuwine Sheriton davenport."
That luncheon took its place in Mary-'Gusta's memory beside that of her first supper in the house at South Harniss. They were both memorable meals, although alike in no other respects. Mrs. Wyeth presided, of course, and she asked the blessing and poured the tea with dignity and businesslike dispatch.
I'm having a good time; a very much better time than if I went sailing with the Keiths." "What's the matter with the Keiths? They're as nice folks as come to South Harniss." "Of course they are." "Well, then! And you're as good as they are, ain't you?" "I hope so. Uncle Shad, why don't you wear a white flannel suit in hot weather? Mr.
And my FRIENDS my real friends will not listen to mean, ridiculous gossip. Good night." So that was the end of that attempt at asserting the Divine Right by the South Harniss king of hearts. Albert was more miserable than ever, angrier than ever not only at Raymond and Helen, but at himself and his newly-discovered jealousy burned with a brighter and greener flame.
In the old days, when fishin' schooners used to run from South Harniss here, Jerry he was owner and skipper of a little hooker and Solon Black went one v'yage with him.
Betsy's name was Ginn afore she married, and the Ginns was related on their ma's side to a Richards Emily Richards, I think 'twas and Emily married a Thayer. Would that make this Mary a third cousin? Now let's see; Sarah Jane Ginn, she had an aunt who kept a boardin' house in Harniss. I remember that, 'count of her sellin' my Uncle Bije a pig.
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