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Updated: June 2, 2025
"Of course I don't mean that," she laughed, sweetly. "But I happen to think Mr. Corliss's scheme a very handsome one, and I want my friends to make their fortunes, of course. Richard Lindley and papa are going into it." "I'll bet they don't," said Trumble promptly. "Lindley told me he'd looked it over and couldn't see his way to." "He did?" Cora stiffened perceptibly and bit her lip.
Everybody began to shout advice to his neighbor; and nobody listened even to himself. The firemen were in as great a turmoil as was the crowd, while women covered their eyes. Young Frank Chenoweth was sobbing curses upon the bruised and shaking Trumble and Jefferson Bareaud, who could only stand remorseful, impotently groaning, and made no answer.
We're on our way to church!" Trumble felt almost that she had accepted him. "Have you got your penny for the contribution box?" she smiled. "I suppose you really give a great deal to the church. I hear you're richer and richer." "I do pretty well," he returned, coolly. "You can know just how well, if you like."
"Yes, this is my happy surprise for Lodema." I looked at Lodema Trumble. She looked strange. She had sunk back in her chair. I thought she wuz a-goin' to faint, and she told somebody the next day, "that she did almost lose her conscientiousness." "Why," sez I, "she hain't married." "Wall, she ort to be, if she hain't," sez he.
Trumble accepted, and Ray explained, cheerfully: "Richard Lindley's got me so cowed I'm afraid to go near any of my old joints. You see, he trails me; the scoundrel has kept me sober for whole days at a time, and I've been mortified, having old friends see me in that condition; so I have to sneak up here to my own office to drink to Cora, now and then. You mustn't tell him.
They were gathered about a big table upon which stood a punch-bowl and Trumble, his brow as angry red as the liquor in the cup he held, was proposing a health to the President in a voice of fury. "In spite of all the Crailey Grays and traitors this side of hell!" he finished politely.
Wade Trumble, alone in a corner, sitting upon the small of his small back, munching at an unlighted cigar and otherwise manifesting a biting gloom. Ray drew Lindley's attention to this tableau of pain. "Here's a three of us!" he said. He turned to look down into the rhythmic kaleidoscope of dancers. "And there goes the girl we all ought to be morbid about." "Who is that?" "Laura Madison.
For instance: Richard Lindley's preoccupation had neither escaped him nor remained unconnected in his mind with that gentleman's somewhat attentive notice of the present position of a certain rose. Mr. Trumble took up Mrs.
"Yes, this is my happy surprise for Lodema." I looked at Lodema Trumble. She looked strange. She had sunk back in her chair. I thought she wuz a-goin' to faint, and she told somebody the next day, "that she did almost lose her conscientiousness." "Why," sez I, "she hain't married." "Wall, she ort to be, if she hain't," sez he.
Wall, Lodema Trumble arrove the next mornin' bright and early I mean the mornin' wuz bright, not Lodema oh no, fur from it; Lodema is never bright and cheerful she is the opposite and reverse always. She is a old maiden. I guess Lodema is one of the regular sort. There is different kinds of old maidens, some that could marry if they would, and some that would but couldn't.
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