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Updated: May 5, 2025
She had extended her clenched hand in speaking and now struck it violently on the desk. The silver blotter, the candlesticks, the pen-tray and ink-stand leaped in their places and the ink, splashing up, spattered her white silk robe. "There now," said Mrs. Talcott, eyeing her impassively, "you've gone and spoiled your nice dress." "Damn the dress!" said Madame von Marwitz.
Then he cuffed the major's ears a couple of times, kicked him some more, emptied the ink-stand over his head, poured the sand from the sand-box in the same place, knocked over the table and went out. During all this time the major sat still with a sickly kind of a smile upon his face and never uttered a word.
The principal objects which it contains are a library-table, with ink-stand, presse-papier, paper-knives, and other articles in keeping, and in the opposite corner a large bookcase. The collection of books is remarkable, not from the number of volumes or the presence of rare editions, but from the variety of the subjects.
Foster, take this boy out." Foster came forward and Mose seized his hand as if meeting an old acquaintance after the lapse of many years. The Judge spoke to Laz: "When you go in under oath you'll have to be more careful. Your drollery might send you to jail. You may go now." As Laz turned to go he spied on the Judge's desk a fancifully wrought ink-stand.
However, he followed his idea; he led her to the table, on which, near the brushes, were an ink-stand, and several leaves of letter-paper ornamented with a large blue vignette, representing the facade of the hotel, with innumerable windows. "Write what I am about to dictate to you. I will call somebody to take the letter." And as she resisted, he made her fall on her knees.
Theresa greeted her sister with apparent friendliness, but she did not leave her place. She stretched out her hand across the ink-stand, and observed Marian’s shabby appearance—the worn shawl, the old-fashioned little cloth bonnet with its black velvet ribbands meeting in a bow under the chin. “Go upstairs for a bit,” she said, “and let the children entertain you. Rieke will bring up your bag.”
He stared at the monumental crystal ink-stand half full of ink, yet spotless and free from stains, that stood on the table, and tried to picture Tappington daintily dipping into it to thank the fair donors "daughters of Rebecca." Who were they? and what sort of man would they naturally feel grateful to? What was that?
Then she closed the ink-stand, and went up the high staircase to her room. A sensation of chilliness, of loneliness was about her, and when she came to her door she entered her room abruptly, as if she feared the dead man. And, standing in the middle of her room watching the yellow flame of the candle, she thought of him.
Slowly moving toward the desk and craning his neck he took up the ink-stand, stroked it and said: "Jedge, I'd like to borry this thing. Fetch it back in a month or so." "Put it down and get out. Wait a moment." "Told me to get out." Rap, rap! "Hold yourself in readiness to appear before the court. Now you may go." But he hesitated.
Finding that his father would not be there for three-quarters of an hour or more, he ordered from the barmaid "nine penn'orth o' brandy and water hike, and the ink-stand," and having settled himself in the little parlour, composed himself to write that wonderful "walentine" to Mary.
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