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I see taller and stronger men and women, rosier and happier children; a race no longer narrow, squashed, and disproportionate; no longer smoke-dried and nerve-racked, with the driven, don't-care look of a town-ridden land.
She had to listen, she had to answer when directly addressed and the prevailing idea of politeness made her the center of every story and the object of every moral! The refreshments were all distributed and diplomatically the mourners were informed that there was nothing more; nevertheless they stayed on and on. Nerve-racked and unstrung, Anna staggered to her feet and took Jamie to the door.
Of course, the mere expressiveness of his face helped a lot. The look he had turned on Rush for example, that had stopped that nerve-racked boy in full career. Or the look he gave her when he first learned of her father's illness. That sudden coming back from whatever his own preoccupation might have been to a vivid concern for her father. Well, there, at last, it was. That was his quality.
He had not intended to be insulting when he first spoke, but all the sarcastic and abusive epithets that he had thought during the long super-heated days of nerve-racked listening, now rushed out like steam from a boiler. Farnol stared straight at the nervous fellow. "Are you insane?" he asked in wondering contempt,
Wounded and nerve-racked because of her experiences, Ruth was sent home, only to meet, as related in the fifteenth volume of the series, "Ruth Fielding Homeward Bound; Or, A Red Cross Worker's Ocean Perils," an experience which seemed at first to be disastrous.
She stood looking at her and Rose with an expression that appeared to be one of anger. Anger. Fancy. Silly old nerve-racked London feelings, thought Mrs. Wilkins, whose eyes saw the room full of kisses, and everybody in it being kissed, Mrs. Fisher as copiously as she herself and Rose. "You don't like us being in here," said Mrs.
Discouraged, and so nerve-racked that she was on the point of tears, the girl put off the attempt. But days passed, and when no inspiration came, and she was still haunted by the thought of a duty undone, she compromised by telegraphing from Devonshire. Her message ran: Dear Friends I beg you to forgive me for seeming neglect, but it was not really that. I am married to a man I love.
There, on a chair, was my grand new smoking-suit, laid out for me what a mockery! Once I had foreseen myself wearing it in the smoking-room at a late hour the centre of a group of eminent men entranced by the brilliancy of my conversation. And now ! I was nothing but a small, dull, soup-stained, sticking-plastered, nerve-racked recluse. Nerves, yes.
Keep right on having your fun, you and the girls yes, GIRLS, not a lot of kids playing at being nerve-racked society women." "Hear! Hear!" cried Glenn Harold. "What's stirred you up, old man?" "That bunch over yonder. Keep a little girl as long as you can Peggy, and you, Polly, hold your present course. Who ever charted it for you knew navigation all right."
Carnegie, to-day have relieved a certain amount of this misery." "Ah, my sweet, how good your words sound! They are like balm to this tempest-tossed heart and nerve-racked form. Frances dear, we have an affinity one for the other. I trust it may be our fate to live and die together." Frances could scarcely suppress a slight shudder. Mrs. Carnegie suddenly caught her arm.
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