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Updated: June 21, 2025
Soames, who had been staring at an old print by the hat-rack, thinking, 'That's got value! murmured: "I'll go up and see him, Smither." "Cook's with him," answered Smither above her corsets; "she will be pleased to see you." He mounted slowly, with the thought: 'Shan't care to live to be that age. On the second floor, he paused, and tapped.
She let herself and a freezing gust of air into the dark hall, groping to the hat-rack for matches. While she was lighting the gas, a very pretty girl of sixteen, with crimson cheeks and tumbled soft dark hair, came to the dining-room door. This was her sister Julie, Margaret's roommate and warmest admirer, and for the last year or two her inseparable companion.
He noted now that the woman, who had bustled down the hall on her errand, was gray-haired and incredibly ugly, with a dark sour face, glowering black eyes, and a twisted mouth. Then he saw that he was not alone in the hall-way. Three men and two women, all poorly clad and obviously working people, were seated in meek silence on a bench beyond the hat-rack.
Everybody wore his overcoat, and within the collars of overcoats could be seen glimpses of rich neckties; the hats, some glossy, dotted the hat-rack which ran along two walls. A hymn was sung, and then all knelt, some spreading handkerchiefs on the dusty floor to protect fine trousers, and the chairman invoked the blessing of God on their discussions.
What d' ye think o' the hatrack?" Now, that hat-rack was oak-thirty shillings, at least. McPhee came down-stairs with a sober foot he steps as lightly as a cat, for all his weight, when he is at sea and shook hands in a new and awful manner a parody of old Holdock's style when he says good-bye to his skippers. I perceived at once that a legacy had come to him, but I held my peace, though Mrs.
Opening the hall door he saw the hat-rack where as a boy he had hung his cap. It now held garments over which Lane fumbled. Mel came into the hall. "Daren, you'll not know which are mine," she said. Lane watched her. How the shapely hands trembled. Her face shone white against her dark furs. Lane helped her put on the overshoes. "Now just a word to mother," she said.
Susan could hear it tinkle far downstairs in the kitchen, and would bashfully retire to the niche by the hat-rack. Minnie or Lizzie, or perhaps a Japanese schoolboy, whoever the servant of the hour might be, would come slowly up the inside stairs, and cautiously open the street door an inch or two. A colloquy would ensue. No, Mrs. Lancaster wasn't in, no, none of the family wasn't in.
As he was passing out the chief clerk looked at him inquiringly. "It's all right, Mr. Shelley," said the man, pointing with his finger to indicate the objective of his journey. The chief clerk glanced at the hat-rack, but, seeing the row complete, offered no remark.
His wife met him at the door, and he saw that her eyes were red with weeping. "What is the commotion, my dear?" he asked, hanging his hat and coat on the hat-rack in the hall. "What's the difficulty?" "Our protégée has gone, Harvey; she " "Gone!" yelled the detective, frantically, "where did she go? How long has she been gone?" Down from the rack came his hat and coat.
There was also an old walnut hat-rack and a little marble-topped table with a vase and two books upon it. Farther back was a great, venerable fireplace containing dreary ashes. But directly in front of the captain was a young girl.
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