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Updated: June 14, 2025
I knew by instinct it was Jabez an' Barbie, an' just as Andrews started to twist in the saddle I touched Hawkins with the spurs, rode up to him, threw off the loops, put a smile on my face an' shook hands with Bill Andrews, while all the boys give a cheer. I was pantin' an' tremblin', but I don't think it was noticed, as I kept that smile as easy-goin' an' good-natured as a floatin' cork.
Scales and Hiram Butefish, the banquet did not promise to be an unqualified success. There was a tension which did not make for a proper appreciation of the excellently prepared food. In truth, nobody was entirely at his ease save Prentiss and Kate and Abram Pantin. The complacency of the cat who has eaten the canary was discontent beside the satisfaction upon Mr.
"This is Miss Prentice, isn't it?" "That's the general impression," Kate answered. Mrs. Pantin registered vivacity by winking rapidly and twittering in a pert birdlike fashion: "I've so much wanted to know you!" The reply that there always had been ample opportunity seemed superfluous, so Kate said nothing.
At her superb country home, "Pantin," she gave private performances, the magnificence of which was unprecedented and admission to which was an honor as eagerly sought as was that of attendance at Versailles. There was another side to the nature of Mlle.
Pantin inquired mechanically: "Will you have a chop, Prissy?" Since there were only two he did not use the plural. Mrs. Pantin looked across the fern centerpiece and made a mouth as she regarded the chop doubtfully. "I'm afraid I am eating too much meat lately." Impaled on a tine of the fork, the chop was of a thinness to have enabled one to read through it without much difficulty. Mr.
Pantin twittered brightly on impersonal subjects, introducing topics which evidenced clearly that her mentality was of a higher order than that of the women about her, whose conversation consisted chiefly of gossip and trivial happenings, Mrs. Toomey came to think that she was mistaken and that this friendly visit was a rare compliment. While Mrs.
"Have you seen a Miss Prentice lately?" Mrs. Toomey had the physical sensation of her heart flopping over. That was it, then! She had the feeling of having been trapped hopelessly cornered. In a mental panic she answered: "Not lately." "Are you expecting to see much of her?" There was something portentous in the sweetness with which Mrs. Pantin asked the question.
He mused over these memories, and one afternoon spent at Pantin through idleness and curiosity, in company with this woman at the home of one of her sisters, returned to him, stirring in him a forgotten world of old ideas and perfumes; while the two women prattled and displayed their gowns, he had drawn near the window and had seen, through the dusty panes, the muddy street sprawling before him, and had heard the repeated sounds of galoches over the puddles of the pavement.
His blanket is pulled over his head, an' he's pantin' an' givin' it out he's powerful ill. "'How is my father? says Johnny in Osage. "'Oh, my son, says the Injun, placin' one hand on his stomach, an' all mighty tender, 'your father is plenty sick. Your father gets up this mornin', an' his heart is very bad. You must give him medicine or your father will die.
Pantin detected. She smiled faintly. "I don't know when I've spent such a delightful afternoon," and kissed her. Mrs. Toomey curbed an impulse to bite her friend as she returned the parting salute. "And I've so enjoyed having you," she murmured. Mrs. Toomey turned pale when she looked through the front window and saw Kate, a few days after Mrs.
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