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Updated: June 30, 2025
It is well that you should call to every passerby, "Look here!" With the night comes a slouching figure through the tunnel-court to the outside of the iron gate. It holds the gate with its hands and looks in between the bars, stands looking in for a little while. It then, with an old broom it carries, softly sweeps the step and makes the archway clean.
It was hard indeed to believe that it could succumb to the devouring element, so solid and unconsumable it looked. Yet, although all men were asserting vehemently that "Paul's could never burn," all faces were looking anxious, and all ears were eagerly attuned to catch any new item of news which a messenger or passerby might bring.
Her eyes shone, and there was so much of life and youth and vitality in her that, as she hastened along through the falling snow, which dusted itself on her furs, more than one passerby turned to look at her in admiration. She was a "moving picture" in herself. She lingered long in the quaint little French shop, there were so many bargains in the way of lingerie.
She was only a child who smiled when the passerby would give her a chance, which was seldom, and when she did, she disclosed teeth as white as the tiny shells on the beach. There were whole days on the marsh when she saw no one.
Gilian read it, and the brothers standing by the window resumed their talk about the missing girl: it was the subject inspired by every glance into the street where each passerby, each loiterer at a close mouth, was obviously canvassing the latest news. "There's her uncle away by," said the Paymaster, straining his head to follow a figure passing on the other side of the street.
Not a sound smote the stillness of the night. Presently, however, from some tree not far away a whippoorwill suddenly sent out his vociferous notes, complaining again and again of the severe punishment "poor Will" might expect. The cabin was now close at hand. Frank could see that the door was ajar, as though inviting the passerby to enter without the formality of knocking. "Huh!"
Haunte laughed loudly. "Sullenbode." "You mean it will end in my seeking Sullenbode?" "But what will come of it, Maskull? What will she give you? Sweet, fainting, white-armed, feminine voluptuousness?" Maskull coolly drank another cup. "And why should she give all that to a passerby?" "Well, as a matter of fact, she hasn't it to give.
For every passerby Henderson had a quick word of characterization sufficiently amusing, and about many a story which illuminated the social life of the day. It was wonderful how many of this chance company had little "histories" comic, tragic, pitiful, interesting enough for the pages of a novel.
The ornate gold lettering on its great plate-glass window had long since been removed, and the big brass plate which announced to the passerby that here sat the spider weaving his golden web for the multitude of flies, had been replaced by a modest, oxidized scroll bearing the simple legend: SAUL ARTHUR MANN What Mr. Mann's business was few people knew. He kept an army of clerks.
The air was vibrating with yells and profanity.... But I made my escape and walked through the town. It had broad streets, lovely squares, substantial and attractive buildings and residences. And there was Lake Erie, blue and fresh, rippling under the brilliant May sun. I had never seen anything remotely approximating Lake Erie.... "How large is it?" I inquired of a passerby.
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