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Updated: June 10, 2025
If we're late, he'll never forgive us." She passed on down the stairs, leaving Mrs. Meecher dissatisfied but irresolute. There was something about Sally which even in her pre-wealthy days had always baffled Mrs. Meecher and cramped her style, and now that she was rich and independent she inspired in the chatelaine of the boarding-house an emotion which was almost awe.
Faucitt he had to get on the Wednesday boat quick as he could and go right over to the other side to look after things. Wind up the estate, I believe they call it. Left in a awful hurry, he did. Sent his love to you and said he'd write. Funny him having a brother, now, wasn't it? Not," said Mrs. Meecher, at heart a reasonable woman, "that folks don't have brothers.
Meecher's establishment on the Saturday morning, thrilled by the velvet wonder of the sunshine, it seemed to him that the only possible way of passing such a day was to take Sally for a ride in an open car. The Maison Meecher was a lofty building on one of the side-streets at the lower end of the avenue.
Meecher cast an appraising eye at the invalid, as if to detect symptoms of approaching discoloration. "I've been telling him that what I think you've gotten is this here new Spanish influenza. Two more deaths there were in the paper this morning, if you can believe what you see..." "I wonder," said the doctor, "if you would mind going and bringing me a small glass of water?" "Why, sure."
The front door had closed before Mrs. Meecher had collected her faculties; and Ginger, pausing on the sidewalk, drew a long breath. "You know, you're wonderful!" he said, regarding Sally with unconcealed admiration. She accepted the compliment composedly. "Now we'll go and hunt up Fillmore," she said. "But there's no need to hurry, of course, really.
She had been afraid of this, and it was no satisfaction to feel that she had warned Gerald. "Is she very terrible?" "She has the face of an angel and the histrionic ability of that curious suet pudding which our estimable Mrs. Meecher is apt to give us on Fridays.
"I attended a dog-fight which I was informed was a rehearsal," said Mr. Faucitt severely. "There is no rehearsing nowadays." "Oh dear! Was it as bad as all that?" "The play is good. The play I will go further is excellent. It has fat. But the acting..." "Mrs. Meecher said you told her that Elsa was good." "Our worthy hostess did not misreport me. Miss Doland has great possibilities.
Meecher had deftly taken a certain amount of this off him, but enough remained to enable him to attempt consolation on a fairly princely scale. There presented itself to him as a judicious move the idea of hiring a car and taking Sally out to dinner at one of the road-houses he had heard about up the Boston Post Road. He examined the scheme. The more he looked at it, the better it seemed.
Ginger took a step towards the door, then paused, rigid, with one leg in the air, as though some spell had been cast upon him. From the passage outside there had sounded a shrill yapping. Ginger looked at Sally. Then he looked longingly at the bed. "Don't be such a coward," said Sally, severely. "Yes, but..." "How much do you owe Mrs. Meecher?" "Round about twelve dollars, I think it is."
It was improbable that any of these people knew that she was back, but somehow they all seemed to be behaving as though this were a special day. The first discordant note in this overture of happiness was struck by Mrs. Meecher, who informed Sally, after expressing her gratification at the news that she required her old room, that Gerald Foster had left town that morning.
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