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Updated: July 17, 2025
It'll help me to have a realization of what I'm up against." Persis complied. "Tommy darling: "Here I am writing you again for all I promised myself that I wouldn't not ever. It makes me feel so dishonorable when I think of Her. And then, dear, I think of you and everything else is forgotten for a little while. "That lovely, sad, happy, heart-breaking afternoon together!
"Good night, Persis," he said huskily, and he thought it more than his deserts when she answered him with her usual kindness, "Good night, Thomas." During the spring and summer Persis rose at half past five, and though she slept little the night following Thomas Hardin's disclosures, she refused to concede to her feeling of weariness so much as an extra half-hour.
Half the men you meet are named William, to say nothing of the Walters and the Warrens, and the new crop of Woodrow Wilsons." Persis' murmur of agreement was admirably calculated to encourage the flow of confidence, not to check it. "Look at that." Young Mr. Thompson pulled a letter from his pocket and slammed it down on the table.
Persis rallied. "I don't know as I'd undertake to speak for 'em all, but I should say that a good nine-tenths was due to a lack of common sense." Joel disdained to take up the gauntlet. "Persis, it's clothes." His sister looked him over. Joel was attired in a pair of bathing trunks and a bath towel, the latter festooned gracefully about his body, low enough to show his projecting ribs.
"But I rather think, Miss Persis Dale, that I'll take your advice." "Well, I don't expect to be any nearer flying till I get to Heaven and they fit me to a pair of wings. I might try a little jaunt in an air-ship some day, but I don't feel as if I'd relish that for a steady diet. For this world, an automobile is plenty good enough for me."
"I declare," she mused, as she twisted her hair into the unyielding knob, highly in favor among the feminine residents of Clematis as a morning coiffure, "a few more nights like that would set me against apple pie for good and all." But the developments of the day were soon to elbow out of Persis' thoughts the visions of the night.
Why, you poor little soul, you don't know what life's like. You've never given it a chance. You haven't played fair." For years Persis had acknowledged to a desire to give Annabel Sinclair "a good talking to." On various occasions she had uttered truths that had cut like knives. She had the same truths to utter now but the spirit had altered.
Cheap and plain and simple as it was, its effect upon the wearer, even in its stages of incompleteness, was so striking that Persis sometimes forgot her official duty in the satisfaction of a long admiring stare. And probably in her sixteen years of existence, Diantha had never so nearly approximated all the cardinal virtues as in that idyllic week.
"Wal, the situation, ez near ez I kin figger it out, accordin' to law, is this: I owns this ranch." Checkers stood silent for a moment, and then laughed. "You owns it?" he mimicked; "nit." "This real estate," began Mr. Barlow dryly, as though repeating a well-conned lesson, "with the house upon it, was owned in fee by Persis Barlow Campbell at the time o' her death.
Information as to what Persis was doing, or about to do, was sought eagerly in all directions, and Joel's vanity was flattered at finding himself the center of attention, even though in his heart he was well aware of the reason. "Sister having a good time up to Boston?" inquired a florid man, who despite the chilliness of the late fall day was in his shirt-sleeves.
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