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"No; it ran last, I think. You know Monty really was quite clever in his way." "Was he?" said Soames. "Can you see any connection between a sucking baronet and publishing?" "People do all sorts of things nowadays," replied Winifred. "The great stunt seems not to be idle so different from our time. To do nothing was the thing then. But I suppose it'll come again."
She strolled in a casual way past the font which he was decorating, and made a final effort to wring from him the appreciation she craved. "There are some steeple-jennies in the world!" she remarked, staring upwards at the clerestory. Monty picked up another piece of holly, placed it deliberately in position, and then turned his spectacles on Diana.
"They showed me everything their gunshop, their powder mill, their defenses, everything." He smoked in silence for a moment, then added, in an apologetic tone, "Jim, I'm sure you've thought of this: the slain god couldn't be the original platoon commander, could he?" "I've thought of it, and he isn't, Monty.
In the thick of it, when Stewart was drivin' Pat an' his crowd off the place, one of them de-pooties lost his head an' went fer his gun. Nels throwed his gun an' crippled the feller's arm. Monty jumped then an' throwed two forty-fives, an' fer a second or so it looked ticklish. But the bandit-hunters crawled, an' then lit out."
"Rawles, that'll do!" exploded Monty. The butler's chin went up and his cheeks grew redder than ever. "I beg pardon, sir," he gasped, with a respectful but injured air. "Rawles, you will kindly not interfere in such matters again.
But Brewster had discovered that in Italy gold is a panacea for all ills, and his prescriptions were liberal. To him the day was short, for Peggy's interest in the penance, as it came to be called, was so keen that she insisted on having a hand in the preliminaries. There was something about the partnership that appealed to Monty.
I'd like to have one look at her!" Trent drew it out from his pocket awkwardly and with a little shame at the care which had prompted him to wrap it so tenderly in the oilskin sheet. Monty shaded his face with his hands, and the picture stole up to his lips. Trent stood a little apart and hated himself for this last piece of inhumanity.
There's Monty Scruggs explainin' the plan o' battle to a crowd of 'em. He don't know we're anywhere around. Listen and you'll hear something."
'Go and get spades and dig us out." "Hum," commented Major Hardy, "if you weren't a padre, I should believe that story. But all padre are liars, what." Monty bowed acknowledgments. "And then," suggested the Major, "you felt the pull of the Dardanelles." "Exactly, who could resist it? I wasn't going to miss the most romantic fight of all. The whole world's off to the Dardanelles.
Monty forgot his desire to "plague her" in his surprised curiosity. Bending over the box he examined it critically, and finally announced: "T-t-that's the most b-b-beautifullest thing I ever saw. W-where'd you get it?" "Found it. But it isn't mine. It's Aunt Eunice's, and I think you are horrid mean.
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