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"Popsy, dear," said Ruth, "I couldn't think of anything you would like half so well as these, so I took the money Uncle Jerry sent me last birthday and had them painted for you. Isn't it sweet of mamma?" she added softly. "Nothing you could have given me would have pleased me so much," said Mr. Shirley with an odd little choke in his voice.
"I'm in a hurry back to breakfast with my mother," said Maggie in her coldest voice. "Well, then, I will come along with you, my dear; I am just in the mood. Little-sing, she will give me breakfast this morning. I'll be back again in the shop soon after nine. It's a fine shop, ain't it, Popsy?" "It does seem large," said Maggie.
She did not wish to see so far into her father's soul. It seemed a hideous indecency. "So, Jenny don't trust William, but look after your own property." "Oh, I don't care anything about it, popsy," she cried, fighting to think of him and to speak to him as simply the living father she had always insisted on seeing. "Yes you do care," said Hastings sharply.
"I was afraid I'd never make him understand, but I did. And you should have seen him bully that other man into driving the jeep. Are you all right, Popsy?" "Is yo' all right, Cunnel?" Sergeant Williamson was asking. "My leg's broken, I think, but outside of that I'm all right," he answered both of them. "How did you happen to find me, Sergeant?" The old Negro soldier rolled his eyes upward.
In a thick, choked voice she said: "Is that you, Pap?" "It's me," he replied; "it's me, sure enough." "Why, so'tis. Popsy, where's my money?" "Here, Sissy, right here." She extended a thin, wasted hand. "I want you to have it, Pap," she said, speaking very slowly, but in a clearer tone. "You see, it's like this. I've got the diptheery, an' I'm a-goin' to die. I don't need the money see!
"And what day is that?" still more sternly. "That is, why, bless my soul, so it is, that's " "Your birthday," finished Ruth triumphantly. "And we're going to celebrate it just by ourselves. You aren't going out this evening, are you, Popsy?" "No, dear, I shall be very glad to stay at home with you.
Martin looked gloomy. "There's no hurry," said he. "You've been away six years. Seems to me you might stay at home a while." "Oh, I'd bring him here, popsy I've no intention of leaving you. You were in an awful state, when I came home. That mustn't ever happen again. And as you won't live with Martha and Hugo why, I've got to be the victim."
It's ten times easier now to work hard on French and German, because I hope that I shall need to use them before very long. Oh, Popsy, won't it be joyful when I can come over to you!!!! It would take more than four hundred exclamation points to express my feelings, so you must please imagine the rest of them.
'On the contrary, Popsy, when it comes to somebody else's sister I'm much too nervous and funky to say anything of the kind.
'He'd be very much flattered indeed by your interposition on his behalf, no doubt, Popsy; but I'm afraid it wouldn't produce much effect upon his ultimate decision. 'Tell me, Harry, is Mr. Berkeley High Church? 'Oh dear no, I shouldn't say so. I don't suppose he ever gave the subject a single moment's consideration. 'But St. Fredegond's is very High Church, I'm told.
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