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Updated: June 4, 2025
He paused, and then added slowly: "She is as sacred to me, Gray, as she is to you and we are both friends of Monte Irvin." For a moment Quentin Gray's fiery temper flickered up, as his heightened color showed, but the coolness of the older and cleverer man prevailed. Gray laughed, stood up, and held out his hand. "You're right, Pyne!" he said. "But she's damn pretty!" He uttered a loud sigh.
The two men obeyed, Gunn muttering hoarsely to Brisley; and Monte Irvin was left standing on the landing, the lamp in his hand.
"Listen to me, Seton. This is no time for interference. "You are about to become involved in some very unsavory business; and I repeat pull up. In a moment we shall learn all there is to be learned. But are you determined openly to thrust yourself into the family affairs of Mr. Monte Irvin?" "If anything has happened to Rita I'll kill that damned cur Pyne!"
"In the course of my Guildhall duties," he said slowly, "I have been brought in contact frequently with police officers of all ranks. If influential people are really at work protecting these villains who deal illicitly in drugs, I don't think, and I am not prepared to believe, that they have corrupted the police." "Neither do I believe so, Mr. Irvin!" said Margaret eagerly.
General Toombs told him to go out and question the man and, if convinced that he was a spy, to throw him over the stern-rail of the steamer. Lieutenant Irvin got up and went on deck. The stranger followed him. Irvin walked toward the rail. The stranger asked him where he was from. He answered "North Carolina." "Who is that with you?" he questioned. "My uncle, Major Martin," said Irvin.
We always went through the back of a cupboard!" "Can you give me names of others who used this place?" "Well" Mollie hesitated "poor Rita, of course and Sir Lucien. Then, Cyrus Kilfane used to go." "Kilfane? The American actor?" "Yes." "H'm. He's back in America, Sir Lucien is dead, and Mrs. Irvin is missing. Nobody else?" Mollie shook her head. "Who first took you there?" "Cyrus Kilfane."
Irvin, Whittier. Webster. Greeley, etc. Washington Irving has fairly earned the title of the "Father of our American Literature." During the summer of 1856 I received a cordial invitation from the people of Tarry town to come up to join them in an annual "outing," with their children, on board of a steamer on the Tappan-Zee.
All fears for the immediate safety of the capital had ceased, and quite a large force of regulars and volunteers had been collected in and about Washington. Brigadier-General J. K. Mansfield commanded in the city, and Brigadier-General Irvin McDowell on the other side of the Potomac, with his headquarters at Arlington House. His troops extended in a semicircle from Alexandria to above Georgetown.
On the 19th Irvin Cobb, Will Irwin, Arno Dosch, and I were caught between the Belgian and German lines in Louvain; our retreat to Brussels was cut, and for three days, while the vast German army moved through the city, we were detained. Then, the army having passed, we were allowed to go back to the capital. In the meantime Davis was in Brussels.
In this respect his conduct was in no way peculiar. Few men were proof against the seductive Mrs. Monte Irvin, not because she designedly encouraged admiration, but because she was one of those fortunately rare characters who inspire it without conscious effort.
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