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Updated: May 1, 2025
In honeyed words the old man described the enviable position she would occupy as the spouse of a wealthy man, and then conveyed to her the information that Kurt had asked him for her hand.
He had just appreciated as a special aspect of this irrational injustice of fate that these two men were alive and that Kurt was dead. All the crew of the Hohenzollern were shot or burnt or smashed or drowned, and these two lurking in the padded forward cabin had escaped. "I suppose 'e thinks it's 'is bloomin' Star," he muttered, and found himself uncontrollably exasperated.
Anderson's jaw bulged, his big hands clenched. "Bill, you throw this fellow in your car and land him in jail. I'll make a charge against him," said the rancher. "Mr. Anderson, I can save some valuable time," interposed Kurt. "I've got to return a car I broke down. And there's my wheat. Will you have one of these men drive me back?" "Sure. But won't you come home with us?" said Anderson.
This indeed is what Muller calls a "case with a happy ending," for scarcely a year later, to his own great embarrassment, he found himself the most honoured guest, and a centre of attraction equally with the bridal couple, at the marriage of Kurt von Mayringen and Asta Langen.
It is very difficult to read my Sunday psalm in peace when I am given such a bitter soup of grief to swallow as I got yesterday. It keeps on burning me, and still I have to swallow it." "You probably mean the Knippel-soup from yesterday?" Kurt interrupted, full of lively interest.
Later in the morning the Vaterland changed altitude, and soared up suddenly in a high, clear sky, going, Kurt said, to a height of nearly thirteen thousand feet. Bert was in his cabin, and chanced to see the dew vanish from the window and caught the gleam of sunlight outside.
She is always punished for the slightest little fault." "But she never defends herself," Kurt said, half in anger, partly with pity. "If those two ever tried to harm Clevi, they would soon get their faces scratched; Apollonie has brought Loneli up the wrong way." "Should you like to see Loneli jump at a boy's face and scratch it, Kurt?" asked the mother.
"Lenore, I reckon your talk 'll be more interesting than mine," he said, dryly. "I'll go see Dorn an' get this business over." "I'd rather go with you," hurriedly replied Kurt; and then, as though realizing a seeming discourtesy in his words, his face flamed, and he stammered: "I I don't mean that. But father is in bad mood. We just quarreled. I told you about the war. And Mr.
Old Dorn objected to this on account of the expense. Kurt argued with him and patiently tried to show him the imperative need of it. Dorn, apparently, was not to be won over; however, he was remarkably mild in comparison with what Kurt had expected. "Father, do you realize now that the men you were dealing with at Wheatly are dishonest? I mean with you. They would betray you."
Kurt had felt this when, as a boy, he had begged to be allowed to try his hand; he liked the shifty cloud of fragrant chaff, now and then blinding and choking him; and he liked the steady, rhythmic tramps of hooves and the roaring whir of the great complicated machine.
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