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I was teasing him the other day, telling him that he ought to live at the Savoy, now that he's a two-thirds member of the firm." "Ruby!" "I was only teasing, ma. You just ought to seen his face. Any day he'd leave us!" Mrs. Kaufman placed a warm, insinuating arm around her daughter's slim waist, drawing her around the chair-side and to her.
"Captain Thompson came in a few minutes ago looking for Chief Kaufman, but she's out on patrol, so I told him he could wait. But he was scratching his throat, drawing blood, and he wouldn't stop I had to order him restrained. He's handcuffed and in the holding cell till she gets back. He's trying to climb the walls, but at least he can't hurt himself." The Count frowned.
He couldn't even fall back on the Corps' informal motto, because there was no dishonor involved. "At least your teammates aren't refusing to enjoy what we can do for them," Kaufman said, gesturing as she chuckled.
Walt Whitman rubs elbows with Ella Wheeler Wilcox; Robert Browning with Richard Burton; Rossetti with Cale Young Rice; Shelly with Clinton Scollard; Wordsworth with George E. Woodberry; John Keats with Herbert Kaufman! Ibsen, on the shelf of dramatists, is between Victor Hugo and Jerome K. Jerome. Sudermann follows Harriet Beecher Stowe. Maeterlinck shoulders Percy Mackaye.
"Oh, Vetsy," she cried, and a flush rushed up, completely dyeing her face. His face lit with hers, a sunburst of fine lines radiating from his eyes. "Eh?" "Why why, we we'd just love it, wouldn't we, ma? Atlantic City, Easter Day! Ma!" Mrs. Kaufman sat upright with a whole procession of quick emotions flashing their expressions across her face.
For answer a torrent of tears so sudden that they came in an avalanche burst from Miss Kaufman, and she crumpled forward, face in hands and red rushing up the back of her neck and over her ears. "Ruby!" "No, no, ma! No, no!" "Baby, the dream what I've dreamed five years for you!" "No, no, no!" She fell back, regarding her. "Why, Ruby. Why, Ruby, girl!" "It ain't fair. You mustn't!" "Mustn't?"
Vetsburg, she minds you before she minds anybody else in the world." "Ma," said Miss Kaufman, close upon that remark, "some succotash, please." From her vantage down-table, Mrs. Katz leaned a bit forward from the line. "Look, Mrs. Finshriber, how for a woman her age she snaps her black eyes at him. It ain't hard to guess when a woman's got a marriageable daughter not?"
That's all!" "He can't provide, baby." "'Shh-h-h, ma! Try to get calm, and maybe then then things can come like you want 'em. 'Shh-h-h, dearie! I didn't mean it. 'Course Leo's only a kid. I We Mommy dear, don't. You're killing me. I didn't mean it. I didn't." "Sure, baby? Sure?" "Sure." "Mama's girl," sobbed Mrs. Kaufman, scooping the small form to her bosom and relaxing.
Kaufman let her hands drop idly in her lap and her head fell back against the chair. In repose the lines of her mouth turned up, and her throat, where so often the years eat in first, was smooth and even slender above the rather round swell of bosom. "Tired, mommy?" "Always around Easter spring fever right away gets hold of me!" Mr.
The corpuscles of a shah might have been running in the blood of her, yet Simon Kaufman, and Simon Kaufman's father before him, had sold wool remnants to cap-factories on commission. "Ruby, you don't eat enough to keep a bird alive. Ain't it a shame, Mr. Vetsburg, a girl should be so dainty?" Mr.
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