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Updated: May 25, 2025
"How can I O, I dislike so much to ask this of you but will you take a message to him?" She asked this desperately, half expecting me to decline, as decline I did. "Miss Jorgensen, you are now able to ride. Shall I send a carriage for you?" "There may be those on the lookout who would instantly suspect my purpose in going out in that way. On the contrary, nobody would suspect you."
Destiny rose from the floor of the deep and with short shrift set her mark upon a man; he might escape to the land, like Baker Jorgensen, who went no more to sea when once the warning had come to him, or, like Boatman Jensen, he might rise in his sleep and walk straight over the vessel's side.
Which hint had the effect of silencing the discussion for that time. Before I left the house that morning, I had a consultation with Mrs. Mason, who had passed the night in attendance upon Miss Jorgensen, and who had informed me that she had been very restless, in spite of the quieting prescription left by the doctor. "I wish you would go up and speak to her," Mrs. Mason said.
And the good lady went about her house affairs. A few moments later I was hurrying down town to my office, when I overtook Miss Jorgensen and Mr. Hurst. As usual, she was leaning upon his arm, and he was carrying her books. She was talking excitedly, in French, and I thought her to be crying, though her face was covered with a black veil.
"I know that Craycroft paid him yesterday for a long translation done by Miss Jorgensen, and I do not believe he had an order for it, other than verbal. Craycroft seeing them so much together, paid the money, and took a receipt." "Perhaps he paid the money to Mr. Hurst by her instructions, for her own use," suggested Miss Flower. "But then he did not see her last evening, did he?
Quivey, our dramatic writer, soon took to calling her the "Electrical Eel," substituting "E. E." when the person indicated was within ear-shot possibly or probably. In return, as we afterward discovered, Miss Jorgensen told Miss Flower, our other young lady boarder, that she had christened Mr. Quivey "I. I." "Incurable Idiot." How the "E. E." came to her knowledge was never made plain.
The legal proprietor took over a good piece of work and got it for nothing, and Stonemason Jorgensen stood up in a pair of cracked wooden shoes, with a load of debts which he would never be able to shake off. Every one rejoiced to see him return to the existence of a day-laborer. But he did not submit quietly. He took to drink. From time to time he broke out and raged like the devil himself.
"But where the self-assertion is all on one side, and the self-abasement all on the other as in the case of Miss Jorgensen and Mr. Hurst then how would you establish an equilibrium, Mrs. Mason?" "It establishes itself in that case, I should say," clipped in Mr. Quivey. "Oil and water do not mix, but each keeps its own place perfectly, and without disturbance."
In May he organized wards on the Gila, at Pima, Thatcher, Graham and Curtis, under Jos. K. Rogers, John M. Moody, Jorgen Jorgensen and Moses Curtis. In March of the next year, he organized Layton branch near Safford.
Hurst continued to call twice a week in the evening, and Miss Jorgensen kept on giving French lessons by day, and writing out translations for the press at night.
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