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Updated: June 11, 2025
He had read Frederick's name in the newspaper among the survivors and had come from his home in Meriden, several hours' ride from New York, to see his old friend. The paper also gave Frederick's address, the reporters having got hold of it through his connection with the celebrity, Ingigerd Hahlström.
Junior officers, in particular, would have examined the low-power overdrive tables, and would have studied longingly the reports of Bors's use of low-power overdrive against an enemy squadron off Meriden.
"It might be General Meriden as well as me," he cried joyously. "Nobody could tell the difference." "That's so," said Smith. "I shall always carry them next my heart," said Sam. "How can I thank you enough? I am sorry that I can't black your boots this week." "Oh! never mind," said Smith magnanimously, looking down at his feet. "Cleary does them pretty well. You'll be out before long."
"I just sent a telegram to Peter Schmidt in Meriden, and to-morrow morning at the latest I shall leave you. I shall leave New York, go to the country, and turn farmer." "Oh, I really am sorry if you are going away," said Miss Burns, turning serious, though without the least trace of sentimentality in her voice. "Why should you be sorry?" Frederick cried gaily. "You will come out to see me.
Of course, the home jobber benefited by it for a very short time, and then the New York importers stepped in and took the cream. Baking-powder men, coffee-grinders, tea houses, and others sent out crockery, and people, got so much of it for nothing they had no excuse for buying any." "I doubt if it really hurts us much in the long run," said the Meriden man.
There was an end of Meriden for me; and he wouldn't go, either, but come over and sat by me, and read to me, and somehow or other, I don't remember just the words, he gave me to understand that well that he wished I'd marry him. It's about as tirin' to be real pleased with anything as it is to be troubled, at first. I couldn't say anything to Russell; I just cried.
"At this rate," said the lady of Meriden, smiling to herself, "my friend Samson will very soon bring down the house." Tyson, contemptuous of the gallery, had been playing to Sir Peter and Sir Peter alone, and he flattered himself that this time he had caught the great man's eye.
He suggested that Frederick and Schmidt drive down in it to the railroad station, where Schmidt was to get the train back to Meriden. The two men squeezed in beside the Austrian horse-trainer, valet, or whatever Ritter's coachman was. The trotter went off at a swift gait, and again the wild, noisy phantasmagoria of the streets of the new Babylon went flashing by Frederick's eyes.
She breathed heavily, her narrow lips parted, and that fatal, seductive smile spread over her languishing face, like a mask. "Take me! Run away with me!" For a time they were silent as the cab rolled along easily on its rubber tires. "They can wait a long while for you, Ingigerd," Frederick at length said. "To-morrow we shall be with Peter Schmidt in Meriden." But she laughed.
There is a sort of patrol-squadron of warships aground on Meriden. Nothing on Avino. Are you recording this?" "I won't forget it," he said. "Then here's the situation on each of the subject worlds so far as cargo-ships and fighting ships are concerned. Our dowser can tell about them. Remember, this doesn't apply to ships in overdrive!
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