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Updated: June 3, 2025
Their clear depths looked straight into the dark eyes of the man at the desk. Their regard was intense. It was almost disconcerting. "What's the proposition?" he went on. And his firm lips closed over the last word and contrived to transform the simple question into a definite challenge. Peterman stirred uneasily.
"I wish I felt that way writing a bad letter," she said. "But I don't. It just makes me madder with folks, and I go right on thinking things, and and it worries." Elas Peterman shook his head. "Guess you'll get over that, my dear," he said easily. "Sure you will. You're just a dandy-minded kid, learning the things of life. You feel good most all the time. That's how it is.
In those silent moments Elas Peterman thought with a rapidity inspired by the urgency he felt to be driving him. And the fertility of his imagination served him unfailingly. Oh yes. Necessity was driving. But so, too, was his own personal feelings. He saw in the position that this man had revealed an advantage to himself he had never looked for.
It's not going to be easy. You were ready to buy. It was not necessarily to be the Skandinavia who bought. Well, are you going to vote the credit for this fight?" He smiled uncertainly. "And to what extent?" "The limit. Go on." Peterman nodded. "There's no commercial enterprise that can stand idleness. His work must stop. His " "That is the A.B.C. of it."
Peterman Bostwick urges that important results might be secured by making the canal an inclined plane, so that when a boat is placed upon it the boat will simply slide down hill by the power of the attraction of gravitation. This seems to us a beautiful method of adapting to the wants of man one of the most remarkable of the laws of Nature, and we should be inclined to give Mr.
Elas Peterman had no desire in the world to hurt this girl. A cleverer man would have avoided it. But this man had no refinement of thought or feeling. Cynicism and sarcasm were his substitutes for a humour he did not possess. Nancy's cheeks flushed hotly. But she stifled her feelings.
Why, that's just fine. Well, I'm dying to hear your news. Splendid. I shall be here. G'bye." Peterman set the 'phone down. His smiling eyes challenged those of the man who a moment before had derided him. "Well?" Hellbeam's impatience was without scruple at any time. "She's got back all right, and she's succeeded far better than you hoped. Better than she hoped herself.
A swift thought flashed through the man's mind, to be followed by a feeling such as he had never known before. Hitherto Elas Peterman had represented only a sufficiently worthy adversary who must be encountered and defeated. Now, all in a moment, that was changed into something fiercer, more furiously human and abiding. "Does it matter?" he asked very quietly. Nancy looked up from her plate.
And furthermore, the man she served this man, Elas Peterman had hinted, and even definitely talked of, further rapid promotion. She had worked hard for it all. Oh, yes. She had worked morning, noon, and night.
Peterman he'll he'll oh, I'm just dying to see his face when I tell him." "You haven't wired him already?" "No. The news was too good to send by wire." For a moment the man contemplated the simple radiant creature beside him. She was so transparently happy. And the sight of her happiness satisfied him. "It'll astonish him, eh?" "Astonish him?" Nancy laughed. "That doesn't say a thing.
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