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Updated: June 16, 2025
"Did you find him, father?" was Miss Prime's low-toned, faltering question. "We found the soldier referred to; Colonel Armstrong has been most kind; but it wasn't your brother at all, my child." A day had dawned on the Presidio Heights as brilliant as its predecessor had been dismal.
Then she placed her little hand on his arm, and drew herself to his side, and when he would have followed the others, going straight across the broad plain to the lights at the hotel, turned him to the left. "I'm going to take you all the way round, sir," she said joyously. "Then we can be by ourselves at least ten minutes longer." And so began the second period of Gouverneur Prime's thralldom.
"Have you encountered the Sandemans?" "Yes, sixteen years before the Traiti War. A century and a quarter ago." Medart frowned, scanned the Bridge crew. That was what he'd thought strange earlier there were none of the small, dark-skinned blonds who were such a significant part of Alpha Prime's military.
Prime's, not mine, and is full of good sense. I borrowed it from his "Tent Life." It is not possible that there can be any mistake about the locality of the Crucifixion. Not half a dozen persons knew where they buried the Saviour, perhaps, and a burial is not a startling event, any how; therefore, we can be pardoned for unbelief in the Sepulchre, but not in the place of the Crucifixion.
Now, however, everything was changed. Prime's rent." "Oh, at the old farm?" "Yes. He wants another reduction." "He'll want to be paid for staying there next." "Well, poor man, he's had to take lodgers this summer a thing he's never done before. Charlie, did you know that?" "Yes," said Charlie, interrupting an animated conversation which he had started with Mrs. Marland.
"Do you know who they are?" pursued his mother, wandering from Mr. Prime's rent to the more interesting subject of his lodgers. "Ladies from London," answered Charlie. "Rather vague," commented Mr. Vansittart. "Young ladies or old ladies, Charlie?" "Why does he want to know?" asked Mrs. Marland; but chaff had about as much effect on Mr. Vansittart as it would have on an ironclad.
Triumph and delight he could have understood, but not, not this semblance of confidential relations, not at least until he felt his arm grasped by a cordial hand, heard his name spoken by a friendly voice, and Mr. Prime's pleasant inquiry: "Have you no greeting for other friends?"
Tributes of James D. Reid, New York "Evening Post," New York "Herald," and Louisville "Courier-Journal." Funeral. Monument in Greenwood Cemetery. Memorial services in House of Representatives, Washington. Address of James G. Blaine. Other memorial services. Mr. Prime's review of Morse's character. Epilogue.
His response had the bounding quality of a rubber ball. "If you'll sit here and make yourself comfortable, Mr. Dalton, I'll see what I can do." "Oh, it's a beastly hole, Kemp. How can I be comfortable?" Randy, who had come back from the telephone with a look on his face which clutched at Major Prime's throat, caught Dalton's complaint.
Prime in a personal sense I scarcely thought at all, there was a romantic flavor to the episode that stirred my imagination. So gay and light-hearted did I feel that Aunt Helen noted it, and alluded to the fact with pleasure as we sat together on the Friday evening previous to Mr. Prime's return. "I have good reason to be. I feel very happy to-night.
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