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Updated: May 3, 2025
Of this I was less certain, forlorn little Medora being a "busted" cow town, concerning which I once heard another of my men remark, in reply to an inquisitive commercial traveler: "How many people lives here? Eleven counting the chickens when they're all in town!" My foreman continued: "By George, there was something that professor said afterward that made me feel hot.
"Possibly," repeated Foster; and neither followed further, for a moment, the pathway of surmise. Presently Randolph rose and scuffled through the ruck of newspapers, with which no great progress had been made. "Is Medora at home?" he asked. "I think she's off at church," said Foster discontentedly. "And Hortense went with her." "I'll call her up later.
On the next day Medora formed her resolutions. Beelzebub, flung from heaven, was no more cast down. Between her and the apple blossoms of Harmony there was a fixed gulf. Flaming cherubim warded her from the gates of her lost paradise. In one evening, by the aid of Binkley and Mumm, Bohemia had gathered her into its awful midst.
"It was only a moment of dizziness," said Randolph. "I imagine he was fairly himself next day." "Well, I've heard too much about it. Medora came up here and " "Need we go into that?" "There were plenty more to help," Foster went on doggedly. "One dear creature, who was old enough to be more cautious, spilt water down the whole front of her dress "
Yes, Eudoxia was feeling, with a sudden faintness, that the Better Things might after all be beyond her reach. She looked about for herself without finding herself: she had dwindled away to nothingness. "Do you take her money such money?" Abner asked of Giles with severity. Eudoxia had returned to Medora and the samovar. "Such money?" returned Giles. "Is it different from other money?
"Well, you haven't told me what you thought of that last chapter," said Abner, putting the roll back in its box. He made no demand on Medora's interest to the exclusion of that of the others, however. His general glance around invited comment from any quarter. He had merely looked at her first. "M no," said Medora. The girl, a few weeks before, had looked over The Rod of the Oppressor.
And just as formerly, in the long winter nights on his ranch at Medora, he used to read aloud to the cowboys and hunters of what was then the Western Wilderness, so at Sagamore Hill, in the days of their childhood, he read or told stories to the circle of boys and girls. In 1901, Mr.
"Then we'll walk on and meet them," declared Medora. The new-comers were young professors and graduate students. They were soon in possession of the thrilling facts of the past night, and one of them offered to be a prisoner, if a prisoner was desired. When they heard how Bertram Cope had saved the lives of defenseless women in a lonely land, they inclined to smile.
Together they viewed in thirds "the gath'ring clouds"; together still in thirds they roused themselves "at the welcome call" of "Larboard watch, ahoy!" Disregarding the mere words, they attained, at the finish, to something like feeling or even like a touch of passion. Medora Phillips had never heard Cope sing like that before; had never seen so much animation in his singing face.
The meeting took place in Mrs. Phillips' drawing-room; he would trust himself to no more strolls on the campus, to no more confabs in college halls. There was protection in numbers, and numbers seldom failed beneath Medora Phillips' roof. They failed this time, however. Mrs. Phillips and Hortense were away at a reading; only Amy and Carolyn were at home. Cope seized on Carolyn as at a straw.
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