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Updated: May 14, 2025
The whole house was still now, especially on the junior floor. Only they thought they saw Cora Rathmore's door ajar. "That's the nasty cat who told!" hissed Jennie, as she and her chum began to dress. "Never mind. We won't do it again, Jennie. We were wrong." "I suppose we were. But, Nance!" "What is it, dear?"
She saw a group of girls and boys standing about where the Hall boundary was; but she did not recognize any of them until she was rolling past. Then she heard Grace Montgomery's shrill voice: "Oh, she's only showing off. Her name's Nelson. Cora knows all about her." "No, I don't," snapped Cora Rathmore's voice. "But she's chummed on me." Nancy heard no more. She didn't want to.
"You can't use too much pressure; make them think it's their own idea." There were meetings of both crews, with heated arguments; Baron Rathmore made frequent speeches, while Lord Trask of Tanith and Admiral Harkaman the titles were Rathmore's suggestion remained loftily aloof. On both ships, everybody owned everything in common, which meant that nobody owned anything.
Everybody's being beggared except this rabble of new lords he has around him, and that slut of a wife and her greedy kinfolk...." Trask stiffened. "You're not speaking of Queen Flavia, are you?" he asked softly. Rathmore's mouth opened slightly. "Great Satan, don't you know? No, of course not; the news would have come on the same ship I did. Why, Angus divorced Flavia.
"Was that it, Nance?" demanded Jennie, suspiciously. "It it must have been," admitted Nancy. But in her heart of hearts Nancy knew that she had stumbled over the toe of Cora Rathmore's skate. The girl had deliberately thrown her. It made no difference in the result of the race. Nancy could not have won, she knew. But it warned her to look out for Cora Rathmore if she raced again with her.
Rathmore had lowered his voice, but even so the open landing stage was no place for this sort of talk. He said so, ordered a couple of the locals to collect Rathmore's luggage, and got him into a hall-car, taking him down to his living quarters. After they were in private, Rathmore began again: "It's more than anybody can stand!
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