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Updated: June 12, 2025
Trapes, viewing his clean-cut features and powerful figure with approval, "what could y' do?" "Anything, so long as I can make good, Mrs. Trapes. What should you suggest?" "Well," said Mrs. Trapes, caressing an elbow thoughtfully, "grocers' assistants makes good money an' I know Mr. Smith wants a butterman." "Good," nodded Ravenslee, "I should like to batter butter about "
"Nothing mean about her, eh, Bill?" said as admiring box-passenger. "Young couple, I reckon, just out from the States." "No!" roared Bill. "Oh, well, his sweetheart, I reckon?" suggested the box-passenger. "Nary time!" growled Bill. "Look yer! I know 'em both, and they knows me. Did ye notiss she never drops his arm when she sees the stage comin', but kinder trapes along jist the same?
Trapes, consulting her watch again, "it is now exactly fifteen and three-quarter minutes after midnight, so I guess she's in bed somewhere. But this is a big house, an' there's lots of bedrooms, so if I was you, I'd go an' look till I found her " Ravenslee was at the door so swiftly that Mrs.
And by reason of the unwonted graciousness of Mrs. Trapes, of Ravenslee's tact and easy assurance, and the Old Un's impish hilarity, all diffidence and restraint were banished, and good fellowship reigned supreme, though the Spider was interrupted in the midst of a story by the Old Un suddenly exclaiming: "Keep your hand out o' the jam, Joe!"
Hazel paused to question him further concerning "the gentleman", but Ravenslee laughed and, seating her upon his shoulder, bore her into the house. In her housekeeper's room, surrounded by many dusty bill files and stacks of account books, they presently found Mrs. Trapes, whose hawk's-eye viewed bills and tradesmen's books while she frowned and muttered such comments as "Rogues!" "Thieves!"
Yes, I like the rug and the er stuffed owl in the corner!" and he nodded to a shapeless, moth-eaten something under a glass case against the wall. Mrs. Trapes wriggled her elbows again and, glaring still, spoke harsh-voiced. "Young feller, that owl's a parrot!" "A parrot of course!" assented Mr. Ravenslee gently, "and a very fine parrot too! Then the wax flowers and the antimacassars!
Geoffrey, his father died o' the drink, an' she's frightened for fear Arthur should go the same road. Oh, Hermy's life ain't all ice-cream sodas an' lollipops, not much it ain't, poor, brave, beautiful thing!" Saying which, Mrs. Trapes, sighing again, took up her tray; Mr.
Whereabouts? How?" "About half an hour ago! Coming up the stairs! I carried her grip!" "Well!" exclaimed Mrs. Trapes, staring, "well, well!" and she continued to munch candy and to stare and say "well!" at intervals until arrested by a new thought. "That b'y!" she exclaimed. "Was Arthur with her?" "No," answered Ravenslee, wrinkling his brows, "I lost him on my way home." Mrs.
Trapes, whose motherly solicitude she heeded no more than the bustle and traffic of the streets through which the swift car whirled her on and on until, turning, it swung in between massive gates and pulled up before a great, gloomy house.
"That would be rather hard on our legislators and Fifth Avenue parsons, wouldn't it? Anyway, I want work, that's sure!" "Y' mean as your money's all gone?" "Very nearly," sighed Mr. Ravenslee with a suitable air of dejection. And he did it so well that Mrs. Trapes, viewing him askance, frowned, bit her lip, wriggled her elbows, and finally spoke. "Are ye up against it good, Mr. Geoffrey?" "I am!"
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