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Updated: June 5, 2025
By six-fifteen this fact could no longer be concealed, and such of his following as had not already fallen by the wayside crept, one by one, to rest. They left the Colonel dreamily, murmurously happy in a chair at the end of the City Hotel bar. Here, he was discovered about six-thirty by Eustace Eubanks, who had incautiously thought to rebuke him.
"He" she said at last, nodding in the direction of Colonel Hughes "he got it out of me how, I don't know." "Got what out of you?" Bray's little eyes were blinking. "At six-thirty o'clock last Thursday evening," said the woman, "I went to the rooms of Captain Fraser-Freer, in Adelphi Terrace. An argument arose.
We'll cut her up in chunks an' tackle her: let's see, ten times eighteen is one-eighty, an' three times that is three times the hundred is three hundred, and three times the eighty is two-forty. That's five-forty, an' a half of one-eighty is ninety, an' five-forty is six-thirty. We'd ort to double it fer interest an' goodwill, but we'll leave it go at the reglar price.
I leave the house at six-thirty, and I'm at work in my overalls at seven. I have an hour off at noon, and work again from one till five." "But the work itself?" "It wasn't muscularly exhausting not at all. They couldn't give me a heavier job because I wasn't good enough." "But what will you do? I want to know."
"She's almost as obliging as I am. She rooms next to Alicia and our noble friend. It will be only a step for her. She won't mind doing it." "I guess I'd better. Tell Christine and Barbara to be at the Inn by six-thirty." Jane turned and left the room. Walking down the long hall she passed Alicia's door. It was open a trifle.
At six-thirty Suzette lays the generous dark-oak table in lace and silver, thin glasses, red-shaded candles, and roses plenty of roses from the garden. Her kitchen by this time is no longer open to visitors.
Then one evening, just before dark, a boy on a heavily lathered horse rode up to the piazza steps, and, like the messenger in a novel, handed me a letter. It was from father. "Have everything in readiness to start to-morrow morning," he wrote. "I shall expect you at the house at six-thirty to-morrow night without fail." This letter threw me into a flutter of excitement.
The direction had been scrawled in haste, evidently, but even so, the handwriting had grace and character. Its delicacy, combined with a certain firmness and impulsive dash, expressed to Max the personality of the writer. The letter was of course from Miss DeLisle; a short note asking if he would look for her on the terrace at six-thirty. She would be alone then. Max glanced at the hall clock.
Yes, it was Kathleen Somers's own voice, saying these things to me. I was still enraged, but I must bide my time. I refused the horn, and went out into the rheumatic orchard to smoke in dappled moonlight. The pure air soothed me; the great silence restored my familiar scheme of things. Before I went to bed in the barn, I could see the humor of this sour adventure. Oh, I would be up at six-thirty!
"Dat big man looked lak' he was jes' going t' start right in on his fren'. An' de luck turns his way, anyhow, and de lil' feller loses. 'I gibs yo' 'twill six-thirty to-night, de big man says. 'Dat's ma reg'lar dinner hour, an' I'm moughty savage ef I go much over ma dinner time.
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