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Updated: June 19, 2025
He turned away, bareheaded in the mild January sunshine, and crossed to Meeghan's, where his telephone call proved to be from Rev. Mr. Dayne, desiring a personal conference later in the day. Cumbered with many cares though he was, the kind-faced Secretary of Charities had been captured at sight by Vivian's plan of buying the old Dabney House, and bringing it to life again as a great Settlement.
Jimmy came back. He seemed to avoid her eyes. "I have taken rooms for you; I think you will be comfortable. Will you will you go up now? I have ordered supper; it will be ready in fifteen minutes. I will wait here." Christine obeyed wearily. She went up in the lift feeling lonely and depressed. A kind-faced maid met her on the first landing.
Finally Jennie's eye, grown sharp with want, saw one. Not too well dressed, kind-faced, middle-aged. She fell into step beside him. "Please, can you help me out with a shilling?" Jennie's nose was red, and her eyes watery. Said the middle-aged family man with the kindly face: "Beat it. You've had about enough I guess."
Here, doubtless, would some day stand the colossal work of Queed. At the big desk sat the Rev. Mr. Dayne, a practical idealist of no common sort, a kind-faced man with a crisp brown mustache. At the typewriter-table sat Sharlee Weyland, writing firm letters to thirty-one county almshouse keepers. It was hard upon noon. Sharlee looked tired and sad about the eyes. She had not been to supper at Mrs.
He was asked to officiate at the simple services when the dead banker's body was interred in Casanova churchyard, but the good man providentially took cold, and a substitute was called in. A few days after the services he called to see me, a kind-faced little man, in a very bad frock-coat and laundered tie.
I saw the poor girl shudder slightly as we stopped at the door of a low, two-story frame house, from which the unwonted spectacle of a carriage brought a crowd of half-naked children and a comely, cleanly, kind-faced mulatto woman. Yes, this was the house. He was upstairs, rather poorly, but asleep, she thought. We went upstairs. In the first chamber, clean, though poorly furnished, lay Dobbs.
After walking a good distance, we arrived at a gate and lodge, where we stopped to inquire the way. A kind-faced woman informed us that we should shorten it much by going through the park, which, as we seemed respectable boys, she would allow us to do.
It would be a long story, and a bootless, were I to tell how it fell out that Florine had a friend, the same kind-faced woman who helped her watch beside my bed; the window of this friend's garret room opened almost directly opposite Florine's own poor apartment. Only a narrow, dingy alley lay between; so scant was the space the upper stories came near to touching across it.
Virgie heard a sound as of hoofs upon a bridge, and saw, across the lily-bordered river, the Custis carriage winding up a golden road. "Alone!" said Virgie; "love has gone. Now I must live for freedom." "Breakfast, Miss," spoke a neat, kind-faced, yet ready woman, of Virgie's own size and color; "my husband is going to drive you out of town before any of the white people are up to see you."
She stood at the edge of the steps, with her white hair shining in the morning, her kind-faced husband just behind her during all the farewell, and Marcia felt happier because of her motherly presence. The guests were all out on the piazza in the gorgeousness of the summer morning.
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