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Updated: May 5, 2025
"Millie," cried the child, opening the door, "mamma wants you to come right away. We are having a lovely time." "Don't mind Millie's ways," said Mrs. Jocelyn, touching Roger's arm and giving him a little confidential nod. "You understand each other."
Her voice trailed off lamentably into a plea for kind treatment and gentleness. Here was Millie Splay's second preoccupation. As it was Sir Chichester's passion to see his name printed in the papers, so it was Millie's to gather in the personages of the moment under her roof. She had promised that this party should be just a small one of old friends with Luttrell as the only new-comer.
I want you to understand," she continued, as they passed down the quaint old hallway, "that we belong to the aristocracy. Since this is the oldest house in town, we surely should be regarded as one of the old families." "By what magic were you able to make so inviting a home in such a place?" he asked. "Oh, that's Millie's work," she replied.
"Say, Doc, I'm crazy to find that boy, and find him cursing the skitters with a wholesome vocabulary, same as you and me. But I'd hand over my Commission in the force with pleasure to my biggest enemy rather than pass him the dope you and me need to." The Scotsman nodded, and the kindly face reflected the bitterness of his feelings. "And I handed him my promise, and Millie's," he aid.
Many a night I have lain in bed and wished that Millie might be going along the road by herself and that about three men would come up and say something out of the way to her, just so I could spring out and wipe the face of the earth with them. I'm not as big as you are, but for her I'll bet I can whip any three men you ever saw. By the way, don't even speak Millie's name at home.
Two figures going out from the saal passed in front of the two still sitting quietly grouped in the light of the summer-house. They were challenged as they passed and turned soft profiles and stood talking. Behind the voices, flutings, single notes, broken phrases, long undisturbed warblings came from the garden. Clara was at the piano. Tall behind her stood Millie's gracious shapeless baby-form.
And, say, I don't know how that old Greek looked; but if he had the build and lines of this chap he sure was some ornamental. Anyway, the one we had with us would have been a medal winner in any kind of clothes. Also he had the light wavy hair and the dark blue eyes of Millie's description, with some of the vacation tan left on his cheeks. Marjorie's the next to be heard from. "Why, Mr.
The girl reddened, but met Ruth's eyes determinedly. "I've got a book in here, that dad got with some other traps from ol' man Cullen's girls, back in Red Rock they thought we was poorly, an' they helped us that-a-way. It's 'Millie's Lovers, an' it tells how a man deceived a girl, an' run away an' left her the sneakin' coyote!" "Girls shouldn't read such books, Hagar." "Yes, they ought to.
He also looked round the room, then hurried out. There was a pause. "What is it?" people murmured, turning their heads. Paul Lane bent down and said to the dégagée Duchess: "She won't sing till Mr. Brett, of the opera, comes." His lips curled in a sarcastic smile. "What a fuss they all make about themselves!" returned the Duchess. "It's a hard face." "Millie's? She's in a violent temper.
Portholes at various spots made the seaquariums visible from any part of the rim, but in Dr. Millie's laboratory alone were the large panels of clear plastic that gave a real view into the rivers.
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