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"No, by !" cried the committee-man harshly, bringing his dirty fist down on the other's knee. "Did you ever hear of Frank Pixley weakenin'? Did you ever see the man that said Frank Pixley wasn't game?" He rose to his feet, a ragged and sinister silhouette against the sputtering electric light at the alley mouth.
The first night, when the ladies had gone chattering upstairs to make sure that all the arrangements were in order, Graeme and Pixley sat out on the verandah smoking a final pipe. The ladies' voices floated through the open windows as they passed from room to room, and Graeme laughed softly. "What's up?" asked Pixley, gazing at him soberly.
"I don't think that is so marvelous a thing," said Dear Jones glancing at Baby Van Rensselaer. "Who was she?" asked the Duchess, who had once lived in Philadelphia. "She was Miss Kitty Sutton, of San Francisco, and she was a daughter of old Judge Sutton, of the firm of Pixley and Sutton." "A very respectable family," assented the Duchess.
However, it was Charles Pixley who brought Margaret Brandt to that dinner, and Graeme sat on the other side of her there. And so, Charles Svendt blessings on thee, unworthy friar though thou be!
They'd lay down 'n' ramble till they dropped if I lets 'em. They liked it fine! "'I'll send Pixley around to-morrow, says Banks. 'I want you to teach her the jockey's crouch when she's on her horse. "Next mawnin' I'm oilin' up the dingus when a chicken pokes her little head out the back door of the livery-stable. "'Hello, kid, she says to me. "'Hello, girlie, I says back.
Something unexpected, accidental, untoward, had prevented Margaret replying to his letter. Time would clear it up and set him wondering at his lapse from fullest faith. Also he would risk even further rebuff. He would write again, and this time he would trust no precarious and problematical post-office. He would drop his letter into the Pixley letter-box himself, and so be sure that it got there.
Adam Black, excellent fellow, and gifted beyond most with wisdom and insight, and the condensed milk of human kindness, took upon himself the burden of Pixley, and engaged that eminent financier so deeply in talk concerning matters of import, that Miss Brandt and Graeme found themselves at liberty to enjoy one another to their hearts' content.
"You don't mean to cast stones of doubt at that shining pillar of the law and society, Miss Penny?" said Graeme, tempted to enlarge on so congenial a subject. "Mr. Pixley does not appeal to me nor I to him. I like him just as much as he likes me. And that's just that much," with a snap of the fingers. "I'm afraid you and I are in the same boat," said Graeme enjoyably.
"I don't think that is so marvelous a thing," said Dear Jones glancing at Baby Van Rensselaer. "Who was she?" asked the Duchess, who had once lived in Philadelphia. "She was Miss Kitty Sutton, of San Francisco, and she was a daughter of old Judge Sutton, of the firm of Pixley and Sutton." "A very respectable family," assented the Duchess.
"Then we'd jump or be smashed. Hi! look! There he is." As the freight engine rounded a curve, Dyke's engine came into view, shooting on some quarter of a mile ahead of them, wreathed in whirling smoke. "The switch ain't much further on," clamoured the engineer. "You can see Pixley now."
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