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Updated: June 5, 2025
For a moment he did not reply. Thoughts were rushing through his brain. Was he forestalled in his search for this girl? Meanwhile, Barnes watched him with a cunning gleam in his deep-set eyes. "Such as Augustus Howard, eh? Real tony name that for Morry!"
Tell me what it is at once and let me help you." "Oh, yes, Morry, help me, help me! There's no one else. I didn't know where to go. Oh, what shall I do!" Her own words sounded so pathetic that she sobbed piteously. Maurice stroked her hand, and waited for her to grow quieter.
They might have been somebody else's, while you lay in the warm, sweet Rec-om-pense. "Will will it last?" he breathed. "Always, Morry." The Gracious Step-one knew his name! "Then Jolly didn't know this kind, we never s'posed there was a kind like this! Real Ones must be like this."
Only with perseverance did Maurice draw from her, word by word, an account of where she had been that evening, broken by such cries as: "Oh, what shall I do! I can't ever go home again ever! ... and I lost my hat. Oh, Morry, Morry!
It was Ellen's voice, but the Troubles were all talking at once, and much as ever he could hear it. "I knew you weren't asleep because your chair creaked, so I says, 'I guess we'll light up, it's enough sight cheerier in the light"; and Ellen's thuddy steps came through the gloom and frightened away the Troubles. "Thank you," Morry said, politely.
I almost wish I were not going," said Ephie, and this was not untrue, in spite of the pretty new dresses her trunks contained. "Say, I don't believe I shall enjoy myself one bit. You will write, Morry, won't you, and tell me what goes on? All the news you hear and who you see and everything."
She'll never forgive me. Morry, let me stay with you. You've always been kind to me. Oh, don't send me away!" "Don't be a silly child, Ephie. You know yourself you can't stay here." But he gave up urging her, coaxed her to lie down, and sat beside her, stroking her hair.
Other people can find out what he knows," he added, pointing at Heneage. "He ain't the only one who can see through a brick wall. Say, Mr. Wrayson, you've always treated me fair and square," he added, leaning towards him and dropping his voice. "Can you tell me this? Did Morry ever go swaggering about calling himself by any other name bit more tony, eh?" Wrayson started.
With the fickleness of night-thoughts his musings flitted back to step-ones again. He shut his eyes and tried to imagine just the right kind of one, the kind a boy would be glad to have come home with his Dadsy. It looked an easy thing to do, but there were limitations. "If I'd ever had a real one, it would be easier," Morry thought wistfully. Of course, any amount easier!
He was worth a cool two thousand a year was Morry that's five hundred each quarter day, you understand, and somewhere or other there must be the bonds or securities from which this money came. He never kept them here. I'll swear to that. Therefore they must be somewhere that you ought to know about." She nodded wearily. "Very likely," she said. "I have a parcel he gave me to take care of."
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