"So you hung onto that old gray Parker coat, did you?" she said bitterly. "Yes, and now you will have to wear it until spring comes." She was silent a moment, then shrugged her shoulders and airily retorted, "I s'pose you know! But, anyway, it was worth giving the new coat away just to see how glad the Dago was to get it."
You never will! He stood, held by her, his gaze meeting hers. Then in an instant his face changed, blanched before her he seemed to gasp for breath she was only just able to save him from falling. It was apparently another swoon of exhaustion.
Observe, each person present might have taken the ring Flanders, a broker, just come a cropper; Maude Lille, a woman on the ragged side of life in desperate means; either Mr. and Mrs. Cheever, suspected of being card sharps very good touch that, Peters, when the husband and wife glanced involuntarily at each other at the end Mr.
A great beauty is almost certainly thinking how she looks while one is talking with her; an authoress is waiting to have one praise her book; but a grand old lady, who loves London society, who lives in it, who understands young people and all sorts of people, with her high-colored recollections of the past and her grand-maternal interests in the new generation, is the best of companions, especially over a cup of tea just strong enough to stir up her talking ganglions.
The day had been unusually warm for the time of the year, and the radio boys, turning their backs upon the town, had started out for a long hike into the woods. The heat, together with a visit to the doughnut jar just before meeting the boys, had wearied Jimmy, and he had been the first to suggest a rest.
And while she was answering him Nimble jumped the fence into the pasture from which the Muley Cow had come; and then he jumped back again, into the back pasture. And he didn't touch the fence by so much as a single hair. Then Billy Woodchuck crawled under the fence and came hurrying up. "What are you doing?" he asked. "I'm just stretching my legs a bit," Nimble explained.
His blood quickened and heated at these tales of adventure, just as it used to do when he pored over La Pérouse or the History of Great Navigators. The afternoon was darkening, raw and cold; their fire was a mere ruddy speck in the indistinct solitudes; a wall of gray mist moved down the marshes toward them.
Did your father ever tell you where he got it?" "Oh, yes. He often spoke about that. The old man wasn't a plasterer, you know just a labourer. He was digging a basement. It was a funny basement a sort of blind cellar. There was a stone wall right across the middle, and then there was a door of wood to look like stone. You can go down into the back cellar, but not into the front.
The old man should reap fruit of her gratitude and Sidney should never suspect how nearly she had proved herself unworthy of his high opinion. She had dreamed her dream, and on awaking must be content to take up the day's duties. Just in the same way, when she was a child at Mrs.
The sight of her face just then moved him horribly. What a brute he felt! He took her limp hand, put it to his lips, and murmured: "I shall come in to-morrow. We'll go to the theatre, shall we? Good night, Leila!" But, in opening the door, he caught sight of her face, staring at him, evidently waiting for him to turn; the eyes had a frightened look.
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