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Updated: May 29, 2025
You've been away a long time to the war?" They were sitting on the steps of the Keystone, which at this hour in the morning they had to themselves. Miss M'Gann's glory of dress had faded, together with the volubility of her talk, and the schoolroom air had blanched her high color. "Jack wanted to go off to Cuba," she continued.
At that moment a man's figure appeared at an upper window. He was in a dressing-gown, and unshaven. Miss M'Gann's keen vision spied him at once. "You'll get queer, if you stay here!" she said falteringly. "I guess I am queer already," Mrs. Preston answered with a smile. "Let us go inside and have some tea." Miss M'Gann looked the room over critically.
He didn't like to take the responsibility of selling out Webber, nor the equal responsibility of doing nothing. Miss M'Gann's hopes, he reflected, hung on this stock trade. "What is the prospect to-morrow?" Sommers asked timidly. He felt out of place in all the skurry of the brokers' office, where men were drinking in the last quotations as the office boy scratched them on the board. "Dunno.
"My!" the young woman responded, "but they did send you to kingdom come. You're the next thing, Alves, to Indiana. I do hope you can get out of this soon." Mrs. Preston sat down beside her in the little arbor, and made polite inquiries about the school where they had taught together, about Jane M'Gann's "beaux," the "cat," and the "house" where she boarded.
The step below Miss M'Gann's was held by a young man who seemed to share with Miss M'Gann the social leadership of the Keystone. He was with the Baking Powder Trust, he told Sommers. He was tall and fair, with reddish hair that massed itself above his forehead in a shiny curl, and was supplemented by a waving auburn mustache.
As Sommers remained stiffly mute, Miss M'Gann's remarks died away. "There is nothing more to tell," he said, getting up. "Of course Mrs. Preston has had a very serious strain, and I, her friends, must see that she has rest." "Sure," Miss M'Gann broke in warmly; "now a lot of us girls are going up to Plum Lake, Michigan, for four weeks. It would be good for her to be with a nice party "
You will go mad up here. You have killed enough Gawdor and many pumas. If Jo could speak, he would say, Give it up. I knew Jo. He was my good friend before he was yours mine and M'Gann's here and we searched for him to travel with us. He would have done so, I think, for we had sport and trouble of one kind and another together. And he would have asked you to come also. Well, do so, little man.
You will go mad up here. You have killed enough Gawdor and many pumas. If Jo could speak, he would say, Give it up. I knew Jo. He was my good friend before he was yours mine and M'Gann's here and we searched for him to travel with us. He would have done so, I think, for we had sport and trouble of one kind and another together. And he would have asked you to come also. Well, do so, little man.
He's a college man, was a professor at Exonia." "Excuse me," Mrs. Preston interrupted. The continued noise in the room overhead had made her more and more nervous. She had not heard Miss M'Gann's story, which would probably be the preface of a tender personal episode. "I will be back in a moment," she said, closing the sitting-room door carefully. Miss M'Gann sat forward, listening intently.
The doctor nodded and rose to go. Miss M'Gann's note was more jarring than the kindly old dentist's. "Oh, you aren't going!" Miss M'Gann protested regretfully. "I want to ask so many questions. I am so glad to see you. I feel that I know you very well. Mr. Dresser, your intimate friend, has spoken to me about you. Such an interesting man, a little erratic, like a genius, you know."
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