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Updated: May 9, 2025
Rainer raised his fur collar with a careless gesture. "It's not that that does it the cold's good for me." "And it's not the dinners and dances? What is it, then?" Faxon good-humoredly insisted; to which his companion answered with a laugh: "Well, my uncle says it's being bored; and I rather think he's right!"
Besides, Northridge is three miles off, and our place in the opposite direction is a little nearer." Through the darkness, Faxon saw his friend sketch a gesture of self-introduction. "My name's Frank Rainer, and I'm staying with my uncle at Overdale. I've driven over to meet two friends of his, who are due in a few minutes from New York.
"It's queer a healthy face but dying hands," the secretary mused; he somehow wished young Rainer had kept on his glove. The whistle of the express drew the young men to their feet, and the next moment two heavily furred gentlemen had descended to the platform and were breasting the rigor of the night. Frank Rainer introduced them as Mr. Grisben and Mr.
When Hank Rainer sent word to Tomo that the outlaw was in his cabin, and, if the posse would gather, he, Hank, would come out of his cabin that night and let the posse rush the sleeping man who remained, Hal Dozier was willing and eager to take advantage of the opportunity.
"It's queer a healthy face but dying hands," the secretary mused: he somehow wished young Rainer had kept on his glove. The whistle of the express drew the young men to their feet, and the next moment two heavily-furred gentlemen had descended to the platform and were breasting the rigour of the night. Frank Rainer introduced them as Mr. Grisben and Mr.
Mr Hendric, our agent, Mr Rainer, and Mr Dodd, our lieutenant of marines, weary of the hard work imposed upon them, desired my leave to go on board the Success, which I consented to, and Captain Clipperton left us to shift for ourselves, being now near the island of Cano.
Faxon advanced, attracted by a shimmering Monet, but Rainer laid a hand on his arm. "He bought that last week for a thundering price. But come along I'll show you all this after dinner. Or HE will rather he loves it." "Does he really love things?" Rainer stared, clearly perplexed at the question. "Rather! Flowers and pictures especially! Haven't you noticed the flowers?
The thought made Faxon hasten on, and a moment later he was stooping over a motionless figure huddled against the snow-bank. The lantern had dropped from its bearer's hand, and Faxon, fearfully raising it, threw its light into the face of Frank Rainer. "Rainer! What on earth are you doing here!" The boy smiled back through his pallor.
She 's Irish by descent; Merion's daughter, witty as her father. It's odd you haven't met her. The mere writing of the book is extraordinarily good. If it 's put into capable hands for review! that's all it requires. And full of life... bright dialogue.. capital sketches. The book's a piece of literature. Only it must have competent critics! So he talked while Rainer ejaculated: 'Warwick?
There was not a footpath, a sunny hill or flowery dell, for miles around their homes, which had not been trodden together by Meeta Werner and Ernest Rainer before their acquaintance was a year old. Now they would come home laden with wood-flowers, and now they might be seen treading wearily back from some distant spot, with baskets filled with blackberries, or with the dark-blue whortleberries.
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