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Updated: June 15, 2025
The black-clad proprietor lifted his lean jaw from his hands and gazed long and steadily into the newspaper man's eyes, picked up the bit of pasteboard which bore the latter's own name across its front and flipped it silently across the table to him. Morehouse took it up gingerly and read it reversed it and read again. "Nice little touch, that," he averred finally.
And after a long period of silence, in which Morehouse made no move to put him more at ease, he swallowed hard and went on with his explanation. "I come down to to see Denny fight," he stated. "It kinda seemed to us to me that he'd think it strange if somebody from his home town wa'n't there. So I come along.
I'm going to be a Girl Scout as soon as I get in a higher grade," she said emphatically. It was quite a task to decide what to do with Kitty. They finally arranged that the two young men, Neal and Dick, would run around to the island, and brave the fury of Miss Hannah Morehouse, in a manner calculated to quiet any possible objections on her part.
The eagerness of that trembling old voice was not to be ignored any longer. But Morehouse couldn't help but recollect the eager circle of "Ayes" which had flanked the Judge that other night. "What of it?" he inquired coolly. "What if he hasn't? I though Jed Conway was the particular pride of your locality!" Old Jerry's beady eyes widened.
He felt the peace that comes to a faithful servant who has done his duty and done it well. Mr. Morehouse went home raging. His boy, who had been awaiting the guinea-pigs, knew better than to ask him for them. He was a normal boy and therefore always had a guilty conscience when his father was angry. So the boy slipped quietly around the house.
It was dark before he finished, but Morehouse did not interrupt him by so much as the lifting of a finger. And he sat silent, gazing straight ahead of him, after the old man had finished. Old Jerry, watching him, wondered vaguely what made his eyes so bright now. "So that's it, is it?" the plump man murmured at last. "So that's it. And I never dreamed of it once. I must be going stale."
Smart sort of man he seems to be, though kind of stiff when you first know him: between forty and forty-five, maybe: name's Henry Morehouse, a brother of a bank manager in San Francisco." "James Morehouse the banker is a very rich, important man," said Carmen, somewhat impressed by the idea of Nick's new friend who had stayed too long. "I've never met his family myself.
What right had she this little flutter-budget to know these things when he was denied them? Hermia the report of her engagement had been disturbing, but some reason it seemed less important now than the fact that she was here here in New York within twenty minutes of him perhaps, upon the very street where he might meet her when he went out. Hermia and Trevvy Morehouse!
"He's adorable, isn't he? But I'm horribly frightened about him. He's so dreadfully reckless flying, I mean. If it hadn't been for Hermia, I'm sure he never would have begun it. But he has promised me to give it up now. Hermia may break her neck if she likes; that's Mr. Morehouse's affair, but " "Morehouse!" Markham broke in, wide-eyed. She regarded him calmly. "Where on earth have you been, Mr.
"But you may go on about the rest," she added hastily, when he was struck into silence, without being able to bring in the name of his one excuse, Mr. Henry Morehouse. "I'd better know the worst. When you heard where I'd gone " "Well, I was too late for your ship, because I had to hang on and see Dutchy's case through, so I took the first train I could get when that business was wound up.
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