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Updated: May 6, 2025
And they're awfully good, Hinkle; I know I'll have a swell time. You owe me nine-sixty-two and a half for the week. Cut out the half if it hurts you, Hinkle." And they did. Miss Merriam became Miss Rosa McRamsey. And she graced the transition. Beauty is only skin-deep, but the nerves lie very near to the skin.
Her eyes were heavy, and there were the criss-cross lines under them that tell a story to the expert in the different effects of different kinds of dissipation. Miss Hinkle was showing her age and she was "no spring chicken." Susan returned her greeting, gazing at her with the dazed eyes and puzzled smile of an awakening sleeper.
"I'll show you the ropes," said Miss Hinkle, as they climbed the two flights of stairs. "You'll find the job dead easy. They're mighty nice people to work for, Mr. Jeffries especially. Not easy fruit, of course, but nice for people that have got on. You didn't sleep well?" "Yes I think so." "I didn't have a chance to drop round last night. I was out with one of the buyers. How do you like Mrs.
Ewins came in, and the Russian said he must go. Mrs. Lander tried to detain him, too, as she had tried to keep Mr. Hinkle, but he was inexorable. Mr. Ewins looked at the door when it had closed upon him. Mrs. Lander said, "That is one of the gentlemen that Clementina met the otha night at the dance. He is a baron, but he scratches it out. You'd ought to head him go on about Americans."
Miss Milray stated the case of Clementina's divided mind, and her belief that she would take Hinkle in the end, together with the fear that she might take Gregory. "She's very odd," Miss Milray concluded. "She puzzles me. Why did you ever send her to me?" Milray laughed. "I don't know. I thought she would amuse you, and I thought it would be a pleasure to her."
Clementina responded gayly still, but with less and less sincerity, and she let Hinkle go at last with the feeling that he knew she wished him to go.
"I registered at the hotel, and on the third day I caught the young lady walking in the front yard, down next to the paling fence. I stopped and raised my hat there wasn't any other way. "'Excuse me, says I, 'can you tell me where Mr. Hinkle lives?
If they had a real conflagration once, I reckon they would want to bring their life-preservers." The Russian was looking down over the parapet at the boiling river. He lifted his head as if he had not heard the American, and stared at him a moment before he spoke. "It is said that the railway to Rome is broken at Grossetto." "Well, I'm not going to Rome," said Hinkle, easily. "Are you?"
It made a deep and lasting impression on my mind, for I had heard the Prophet give the counsel to the brethren to come into the town. They had refused, and the result was a lesson to all that there was no safety except in obeying the Prophet. Col. George M. Hinkle had command of the troops at Far West, under the Prophet Joseph. He was from Kentucky, and considered a fair-weather Saint.
Neither spoke for a time that seemed long, and then it was Clementina who spoke. "But it isn't true!" "Oh, yes, it is," said Gregory, as before. "Mr. Hinkle doesn't believe it is," she urged. "Mr. Hinkle?" "He's an American who's staying in Florence. He came this mo'ning to tell me about it. Even if he's drowned Mr. Hinkle believes he didn't mean to; he must have just fallen in."
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