Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: May 28, 2025
Between any two generations the landscape is so changed as to be unrecognizable. Our fathers are monarchists; our sons, bolsheviki. Old Rose Hobbett was more of an age with the Captain, and these two talked very comfortably as the old virago came and went with food at meal-time.
Peter watched the old virago close the door and then sat down to his breakfast. His anger presently died away, and he sat wondering what could have happened to Rose Hobbett that had corroded her whole existence. Did she enjoy her vituperation, her continual malice? He tried to imagine how she felt.
The room had never looked so somber or so lonely. At dinner the old man ate so little that Rose Hobbett ceased her monotonous grumbling to ask if he felt well. He said he had had a hard day, a difficult day.
Peter drew a long breath, with a sort of wistful melting in his chest. A turmoil aroused Peter Siner the next morning, and when he discovered where he was, in the big canopy bed in the great room, he listened curiously and heard a continuous chattering and quarreling. After a minute or two he recognized the voice of old Rose Hobbett.
Next morning Peter Siner was awakened by old Rose Hobbett thrusting her head in at his door, staring around, and finally, seeing Peter in bed, grumbling: "Why is you still heah, black man?" The secretary opened his eyes in astonishment. "Why shouldn't I be here?" "Nobody wuz 'speckin' you to be heah." The crone withdrew her head and vanished.
Presently Bobbs continued, gravely enough: "Talking about Siner, he's stayin' up at old man Renfrew's now." "'At so?" "Old Rose Hobbett swears he's doin' some sort of writin' up there and livin' in one of the old man's best rooms." "Hell he is!" "Yeah?" the constable's voice questioned Throgmartin's opinion about such heresy and expressed his own. "D' recken it's so?
Word Of The Day
Others Looking