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Updated: June 19, 2025
I always supposed that he hated everybody he does me, I know." "I believe he does hate everybody but me." "Strange extraordinary!" said Sharlee, picturing the two scholars alone together in their flat, endeavoring to soft-boil eggs on one of those little fixtures over the gas. "I can see nothing in the least extraordinary in the refusal of a cultured gentleman to hate me."
'But, said I, 'surely your one watchman can't look after thirty-seven different places. 'No, said Bobby, 'but they think he does. I laughed and commended his ingenuity. 'But the best part of the joke, said he, 'is that I haven't got any watchman at all." Sharlee Weyland laughed gayly. "Bobby could stand for the portrait of young America."
Your aunt," said he, obviously ready to return to his reading matter, "shall have it all." But Sharlee had heard delinquent young men talk like that before, and her business platform in these cases was to be introduced to their funds direct. "That would cut down the account nicely," said she, looking at him pleasantly, but a shade too hard to imply a beautiful trust.
However, Queed, feeling that the proceedings might be instructive to him, had had the foresight to come early, before the sidewalks solidified with spectators; and at first, and spasmodically thereafter, he had some talk with Sharlee. "So you didn't forget?" she said, in greeting him. He eyed her reflectively.
Byrd gradually became so absorbed that he almost, but not quite, neglected to keep Mr. Miller in his place. As for Queed, he spoke in defense of the "revolt of woman" for five minutes without interruption, and his masterly sentences finally drew the silence and attention of Mr. Miller himself. "Who is that fellow?" he asked in an undertone. "I didn't catch his name." Sharlee told him.
If Sharlee had wanted to measure now the difference that she saw in Mr. Queed, she could have done it by the shyness that they both felt in approaching a topic they had once handled with the easiest simplicity. She was glad of his sensitiveness; it became him better than his early callousness.
He flinched uncontrollably; but of his own accord he added, in carefully repressed tones: "To qualify for the editorship of course means a terrible interruption and delay. Two months! It would take him five years and probably he would not be qualified then. Sharlee hesitated. "Have you fully made up your mind to to be editor?" He turned upon her vehemently.
I shall not give you the money for any such purpose." "But if it is mine, as you wrote?" said Sharlee, looking up at him from the back of her big chair. Her point manifestly was unanswerable. With characteristic swiftness, he abandoned it, and fell back to far stronger ground. "Yes, the money is yours," he said stormily. "But that is all. My father's name is mine."
"If he isn't," said Sharlee, gently, as the great car whizzed up and stopped with a jerk, "I am very sure that you are to find him some day. If he hadn't meant that, he would never have asked you to come all the way from New York to settle here do you think so?" "Do you know," said Mr.
Sharlee, though a slim girl and no stronger than another, remained entirely unconscious of the behavior of the veil; long familiarity had bred contempt for its boisterous play; and, with her eyes a thousand miles away, she was wishing with her whole heart that she dared ask Mr. Queed a question.
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