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Her heart's in Briar Farm all the while I'd swear to that! Why, only yesterday when a fine lady came to see if she couldn't buy something out o' the house, you should just a' seen her toss her pretty little head when she told me how she'd said it wasn't to be sold." "Lady? What lady?" and Robin looked, as he felt, bewildered by Priscilla's vague statement. "Did someone come here to see the house?"
"Perhaps it would be better to wait and see if something doesn't happen!" said Robert Robin. The big cat did not seem to be in any hurry. He walked slowly along the rail fence until he came to the brook.
Robin spoke not again, nor did he move from the Colonel's side, though his hand relaxed its grasp: he stood and looked like a creature to whom the grave had refused rest a being whose breath and blood were frozen and congealed, at the moment when life and its energies were most needed; strong passion, powerful feeling were upon his countenance, and remained there as if the spell of some magician had converted him to stone.
"Tell me, sir I will have it!" he cried. Robin looked at him with such hard fury in his eyes that for a moment the man winced. Then he recovered himself, and again his anger rose to the brim. "You need not look at me like that, you hound. Tell me, I say!" "I will not!" shouted Robin, springing to his feet. The old man was up too by now, with all the anger of his son hardened by his dignity.
Whether or not they are any way related to Old Robin Gray, history does not determine; but it is very possible that they are, because they came, it is said, originally from the north of Ireland, and one of the sons is actually called Robin.
"Look up over your head," cried the voice, rather a harsh voice. Peter looked, then all in a flash it came to him who it was Chebec had meant by the handsomest member of his family. It was Cresty the Great Crested Flycatcher. He was a wee bit bigger than Scrapper the Kingbird, yet not quite so big as Welcome Robin, and more slender.
To see fashions? Panurge. Even so. Dingdong. And be merry? Panurge. And be merry. Dingdong. Your name is, as I take it, Robin Mutton? Panurge. As you please for that, sweet sir. Dingdong. Nay, without offence. Panurge. So I would have it. Dingdong. You are, as I take it, the king's jester; aren't you? Panurge. Ay, ay, anything. Dingdong.
But, though Beryl and Robin pressed, Dale refused and slipped away and Robin had a moment's picture of the triumph of the "horrid" girl when she saw Dale come into the meeting. Then, remembering the plight of the Rileys' she was ashamed of herself for not wanting Dale to go. Sitting around the centre table she and Beryl ate sandwiches while Harkness and Mrs. Lynch and Mrs. Williams sipped coffee.
They decided, after much deliberation, to let Williams into their secret, and show him their offering, so that he would surely consent to drive them to Rushing Waters. "We'll just about get it in before the snow comes," agreed Williams, scanning the sky with that anxiety to which Robin had grown very familiar. "A Queen, you say? Well, what do you think of that!" He laughed uproariously.
In the portrait the girl's hair was a still brighter gold; yet certainly there was a likeness somewhere about it, he thought; partly in the expression, partly in the broad low forehead, and the eyes that looked as if they were seeing fairies. Of course to his mind Mrs. Loring was a hundred times more lovely than Sir Joshua's famous girl with a robin.
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