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Updated: June 5, 2025
Beyond the shadow, Shantytown, in the quiet splendor of the moon, seemed as intangible as a dream. "Beautiful!" Blair said, involuntarily. He stood for a silent moment, drinking the beauty like wine, perhaps it was the exhilaration of it that made him say abruptly: "Perhaps I'll not go abroad. Perhaps I'll pitch in." Nannie fairly jumped with astonishment. "Blair! You mean to go into the Works?
I haven't made up my mind this is an awful place!" he said, with a shiver, looking across at Shantytown and remembering what was hidden under the glamor of the moon. "The smell of it! Democracy is well enough, Nancy until you smell it." "But you could live at the hotel," Nannie reminded him, as he pulled out his latch-key. "You bet I would," her brother said, laughing.
Spaniel to sleep in the house and be there permanently; but she had children of her own down in the shantytown quarter of the village, and had to go back to them at night. But certainly he made every effort to keep her contented. It was a long steep climb up from the hollow, so he allowed her to come in a taxi and charge it to his account.
That hot Sunday morning when Elizabeth was hurrying down to Shantytown with the lightning flickering in her clouded eyes, Nannie, owing to Miss White's persistence about camphor, had gone into Mrs. Maitland's room to look over her things. Oh, these "things"! These pitiful possessions that the helpless dead must needs leave to the shrinking disposal of those who are left!
As he loitered down to Shantytown, lying in the muddy drizzle of a midwinter thaw, he planned how soon he could get away from the detestable place. "Everything is so perfectly hideous," he said to himself, "no wonder she is low-spirited. When I get her over in Europe she'll forget Mercer, and everything disagreeable." His mind shied away from even the name of the man he had robbed.
These French, half-breeds, like the gypsies, were not without a pride of their own. They held themselves aloof from the Irish of Shantytown, the floating sailor population of the summer, and the common soldiers of the garrison.
I came to my senses in one of the bedrooms of the Shantytown Hotel. There was only a partition between that and the other bedrooms of brown cotton cloth, and as I slowly became conscious of things about me, I heard two voices beyond the next curtain talking of my affairs. "I reckon he won't know where the time's gone to when he comes to himself ag'in.
You see, she was jist blowed over the ledge an' rolled down twenty or thirty feet, an' brought up on a soft spot wa'n't hurt a particle. But how she does take on about her pop! S'pose you knew her brother's come on fur her?" "No." "Yes; got here by the noon stage. They're reckoning to leave Shantytown immegitly. Less go down and see 'em off!" They shuffled away.
Out in the street the shadow of her house fell across the meager dooryard, where, on its blackened stems, the pyrus japonica showed some scattered blood-red blossoms; it fell over Shantytown, that packed the sidewalk and stared from dingy doors and windows; it fell on her men, standing in unrebuked idleness, their lowered voices a mutter of energy held, for this waiting moment, in leash.
There was a screech of laughter, a woman's vociferating fright, a whiff of cigar smoke, and a good-natured curse: "Say, darn you, you're too happy to be out alone, sonny!" Blair did not hear them. Shantytown, black and silent and wet, huddled before him; from the smokestacks of the Works banners of flame flared out into the rain, and against them his mother's house loomed up, dark in the darkness.
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