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Updated: August 12, 2024
The girl smiled upon him proudly and the Taffy King, seeing the expression on her face, suddenly seized the missive from her hand. "I give up! I give up!" he exclaimed. "I said I'd disown him if he refused to marry Dorothy Johnson, my partner's daughter. But 'tain't really Lawford's fault, I s'pose, if Dot won't marry him.
Carew with her mask off; in the company of the child, if I could compass it; if not, then entirely alone with her own thoughts, plans and subtleties. It was an act more in line with my partner's talents than my own, but I could not afford to let this deter me. I had had my chance with her, face to face. For hours I had been in her company.
The stern boat was waiting alongside, a boat of an elegant model, with cushions and polished hard-wood fittings. "You steer," observed Loudon. "You know the best place to land." "I never like to steer another man's boat," replied Havens. "Call it my partner's, and cry quits," returned Loudon, getting nonchalantly down the side. Havens followed and took the yoke lines without further protest.
But I never had a chance to go to school." "Then you think it'll do, Shorty," said Si, much flattered by his partner's approval. "Yes, it's just bully. But I think you ought to say something about Jim's good character. That's usual on tombstones. You might say of him that he had in him the makin' of the finest poker player in the Army of the Cumberland.
"I promise you, I am quite unchanged," returned Dodd. "The red tablecloth at the top of the stick is not my flag; it's my partner's. He is not dead, but sleepeth. There he is," he added, pointing to a bust which formed one of the numerous unexpected ornaments of that unusual cabin. Havens politely studied it. "A fine bust," said he; "and a very nice-looking fellow."
Mallalieu dropped into the nearest chair: dropped as if he had been shot. His face, full of colour from the keen air outside, became as pale as his partner's; his jaw fell, his mouth opened; a strained look came into his small eyes. "Gad!" he muttered hoarsely. "You you don't say so!" "It's a fact," answered Cotherstone. "He knows everything. He's an ex-detective. He was there that day."
"Talk of odd fellows and eccentric characters," said Major Blowney, my employer, one afternoon, "you must see our 'Wild Irishman' here before you say you've yet found the queerest, brightest, cleverest chap in all your travels. What d'ye say, Stockford?" And the Major paused in his work of charging cartridges for his new breech-loading shotgun and turned to await his partner's response.
Then he turned the knob and entered his partner's office. Mrs. Emma McChesney was reading a letter. More than that, she was poring over it so that, at the interruption, she glanced up in a maddeningly half-cocked manner which conveyed the impression that, while her physical eye beheld the intruder, her mental eye was still on the letter. "I knew it," said T. A. Buck morosely.
Then they were left together, and Mark Frayne busily entered his name in three places upon the lady's programme, her name upon his own; after which he began creating the customary small talk, but at the same time seemed to be a good deal impressed by his new partner's personal appearance.
Never were so many beautiful princesses seen together at one time, but the one whom the cow-boy thought the most beautiful and the most fascinating was the little Princess with the velvet eyes. With what eagerness she danced! leaning on her partner's shoulder she swept by like a whirlwind. Her cheeks flushed, her eyes sparkled, and it was plain that she loved dancing better than anything else.
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