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Updated: May 20, 2025
I feel differently about it myself perhaps because I fought for it." At first, the others were glad of this arrogance; it even seemed an answer; but Burnamy saw Miss Triscoe's cheek, flush, and then he doubted its validity. Triscoe nervously crushed a biscuit in his hand, as if to expend a violent impulse upon it. He said, coldly, "I was speaking from that stand-point."
This partly restored March's self-respect, and he could share in General Triscoe's indignation with the Treasury ruling which obliged him to pay duty on his own purchases in excess of the hundred-dollar limit, though his daughter had brought nothing, and they jointly came far within the limit for two.
But he talked to the two men in front of him almost incessantly, haranguing them upon the inferiority of our conditions and the futility of our hopes as a people, with the effect of bewildering the cruder arrogance of Stoller, who could have got on with Triscoe's contempt for the worthlessness of our working-classes, but did not know what to do with his scorn of the vulgarity and venality of their employers.
March answered, the next morning; her husband wished to begin his cure at once. Then Miss Triscoe pensively wondered if Carlsbad would do her father any good; and Mrs. March discreetly inquired General Triscoe's symptoms. "Oh, he hasn't any. But I know he can't be well with his gloomy opinions." "They may come from his liver," said Mrs. March. "Nearly everything of that kind does. I know that Mr.
She bore in a sort of scientific patience his attentions to the pivotal girl, and Miss Triscoe's indifference to him, in which a less penetrating scrutiny could have detected no change from meal to meal. It was only at table that she could see them together, or that she could note any break in the reserve of the father and daughter.
I feel differently about it myself perhaps because I fought for it." At first, the others were glad of this arrogance; it even seemed an answer; but Burnamy saw Miss Triscoe's cheek, flush, and then he doubted its validity. Triscoe nervously crushed a biscuit in his hand, as if to expend a violent impulse upon it. He said, coldly, "I was speaking from that stand-point."
March felt that all this was weakening her moral fibre; but she tried to draw the line at letting Burnamy keep the group. "Why not?" he pleaded. "You oughtn't to ask," she returned. "You've no business to have Miss Triscoe's picture, if you must know." "But you're there to chaperon us!" he persisted.
It was so good that she insisted on Miss Triscoe's sitting in turn, and then Burnamy.
It was so good that she insisted on Miss Triscoe's sitting in turn, and then Burnamy.
She's certainly commoner clay than Rose. No, I won't say that! It's really nothing but General Triscoe's being an old goose about her that makes her seem so, and it isn't fair." March went down to his coffee in the morning with the delicate duty of telling Kenby that Mrs. Adding was in town.
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