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Updated: May 2, 2025
She reassured them as best she could, and made a cup of tea for Mrs. Thropp and told Mr. Thropp there was a young fellow lived in the house who was working for a private detective bureau. He'd find the kid sure, for it was a small woild, after all. There was a lull in the European-war news the next day only a few hundreds killed in an interchange of trenches.
Thropp asked Kedzie how she was half a dozen times, and, before Kedzie could answer, went on to tell about her own pains. Mr. Thropp was freshly alive to the fact that New York's population is divided into two classes innocent visitors and resident pirates.
She rather fancied the notion of being a daughter of a terrible swell family who wanted to force her to marry a wicked old nobleman, but she ran away sooner than submit to the "imfany" that was the way Kedzie pronounced it in her head. It was a word she had often seen but never heard. Meanwhile she was sure of one thing: Kedzie Thropp was annihilated and Anita Adair was born full grown.
When she had seemed hardly to know that he was there he felt necessary and justified. When she took comfort in his arms and held them about her he felt ashamed, revolted, profane. Mrs. Thropp had wept a little in sympathy with Kedzie, and Adna had looked amiably disconsolate; but by and by Mrs. Thropp was murmuring: "After all, perhaps it was for the best. The Lord's will be done!"
Her people not only were poor, but lived more poorly than they had to. They had, in consequence, a little reserve of funds, which they took pride in keeping up. The three Thropps came now to New York for the first time in their three lives. They were almost as ignorant as the other peasant immigrants that steam in from the sea. Adna Thropp, the father, was a local claim-agent on a small railroad.
The same night, at just about the hour when Kedzie Thropp was falling asleep in Crotona Park and Jim Dyckman was sulking alone in his home and Charity was brooding alone in hers, Prissy Atterbury was delighted to see a party of raiders from another house-party motor up to the Winnsboros' and demand a drink. Prissy was a trifle glorious by this time.
Thropp would have had to be far less comely than she was to be unwelcome. She had the ultimate charm of perfect timeliness. He greeted her with that deference he paid to all women, and she adored him at once, independently of his fortune. Adna said that he had always been an admirer of the old Dyckman and was glad to meet his boy, being as he was a railroad man himself, in a small way.
Sometimes she seemed to flounder in an abyss of gloomy discontent. But sleep was sweet for her that first night in the bed where the duchess had lain. She had an odd dream that she also became a duchess. Her dreams had a way of coming true. So there lay Kedzie Thropp of Nimrim, Missouri, the Girl Who Had Never Had Anything. At her side was the Man Who Had Always Had Everything.
People don't ask you How? but How Much? If you got enough they don't care How." "That's all right enough," said Kedzie, "but the main question with me is How?" "How is easy," said Mrs. Thropp, and her face seemed to turn yellow as she lowered her voice. "This Mr. Dyckman is crazy about you. He wants you.
They were like childish actors in a juvenile production at five pins per admission. An unexpected line threw them into complete disorder. Connery turned to Gilfoyle. "Did you ever lamp this old lady before?" Gilfoyle answered, stoutly enough, "I never laid eyes on her." Connery was about to order Mrs. Thropp out of the room as an impostor, but she would not be denied her retort.
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