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Updated: June 29, 2025
"Oh, then, you mean that you both feel for them in their sorrows and comprehend the machinery of their minds. Well, let me tell you that in regard to the last thing you are wrong. You know nothing of anyone's mind. You know less about human nature than anybody I have met." Hollanden looked at her in artless astonishment. He said, "Now, I wonder what made you say that?"
On the black brow of the mountain he could see two long rows of twinkling dots which marked the position of Hemlock Inn. Hawker had a writing friend named Hollanden. In New York Hollanden had announced his resolution to spend the summer at Hemlock Inn. "I don't like to see the world progressing," he had said; "I shall go to Sullivan County for a time."
When people let their front gate hang on one hinge you know what that means." After gazing again at the group at the court, the youngest member of the corps said, "Well, he's a good tennis player anyhow." The others smiled indulgently. "Oh, yes, my dear, he's a good tennis player." One day Hollanden said, in greeting, to Hawker, "Well, he's gone." "Who?" asked Hawker. "Why, Oglethorpe, of course.
And to this argument he added, "Sho!" They kept him out of the subsequent consultations. The next day, as little Roger was going toward the tennis court, a large orange and white setter ran effusively from around the corner of the inn and greeted him. Miss Fanhall, the Worcester girls, Hollanden, and Oglethorpe faced to the front like soldiers. Hollanden cried, "Why, Billie Hawker must be coming!"
Hollanden seemed plunged in mournful reflection again. "Well, it's a shame, Grace, anyhow," he observed, wagging his head dolefully. "It's a howling, wicked shame." "Hollie, you have no brains at all," she said, "despite your opinion." "No," he replied ironically, "not a bit." "Well, you haven't, you know, Hollie."
Presently Hollanden remarked: "Well, don't let's fight any more, particularly since we can't decide what we're fighting about. I can't discover the reason, and you don't know it, so " "I do know it. I told you very plainly." "Well, all right. Now, this is the way to work that slam: You give the ball a sort of a lift see! underhanded and with your arm crooked and stiff.
Hollanden debated with himself for a time, and then observed, "Oh, well, I always said he was an ugly-tempered fellow " The girl flashed him a little glance. "And now I am sure of it as ugly-tempered a fellow as ever lived." "I believe you," said the girl. Then she added: "All men are. I declare, I think you to be the most incomprehensible creatures. One never knows what to expect of you.
I was going up the steps, you know, with a loaf of bread under my arm, when I chanced to look up the street and saw Billie and Hollanden coming with four of them." "Three," said Grief. "Four; and I tell you I scattered. One of the two with Billie was a peach a peach." "O, Lord!" groaned the others enviously. "Billie's in luck." "How do you know?" said Wrinkles.
You are on the inside, you know, and you can't see from there. Besides, you can't tell what a woman will think. You can't tell what a woman will think." "No," said Hawker, grimly, "and you suppose that is my only chance?" "Oh, don't be such a chump!" said Hollanden, in a tone of vast exasperation. They strode for some time in silence.
I had to get up and play before breakfast this morning with the Worcester girls, and there is a lot more mad players who will be down on me before long. It's a terrible thing to be a tennis player." "Why, you used to put yourself out so little for people," remarked Hawker. "Yes, but up there" Hollanden jerked his thumb in the direction of the inn "they think I'm so amiable."
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