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Updated: May 23, 2025
Then she was carried away quickly, while Alonzo, his heart hammering, stood looking after her, born into a strange world, the touch of the grey fur upon his little finger, the odour of her hair faintly about him, one side of his face red, the other pale. "To-day is Wednesday," he said, half aloud. "Come on, Senator." Truslow took his arm and turned him toward the club doors.
"Great snakes!" ejaculated Hornung's broker. "Truslow never took it abroad at all." "Took it abroad! Say, he's just been running it around Chicago, like the supers in 'Shenandoah, round an' round, so you'd think it was a new lot, an' selling it back to you again." "No wonder we couldn't account for so much wheat."
In the gorilla type of woman, on the contrary, the upper part of the body is carried too much behind the line of gravity, and the lower part too much in front. So far Dickinson and Truslow. If this were a purely aesthetic matter, though it would still have its importance, it would only intrude to a slight degree into the moral and social sphere.
The only thing I can't see my way to change is the chauffeur, a poor devil named Truslow, who's really an awful decent kind of fellow when you get to know him!" "Oh, dear," I said, "I never dreamed the Great Bubble Syndicate was going to end like this!" "End?" cried Morty, putting his arm around my waist as though he now had a right to.
I felt almost sorry we hadn't taken in Morty Truslow instead not really, you know, but just for the moment. "How can I tell Hairy and Nelly you're such a pig?" I said, half crying. "I'm not a pig," said pa, "though now I'm the next thing to it an automobilist. And, anyway, it's a straight business proposition. Take it or leave it."
So oblivious was he, apparently, to everything but the question of statecraft which occupied him, that he did not even look up when the morning's session was adjourned and the lawmakers began to pass noisily out, until Truslow stretched an arm across the aisle and touched him upon the shoulder. "In a moment, Senator!" answered Alonzo in his deepest chest tones.
But that night she said to her husband in mournful emphatic tones: "Richard, I hope it's only my nervousness, but I do believe that somehow or other Biddy has heard something about that." No one was quite happy and comfortable at Truslow Manor just now, for latterly the baby had been ailing; she had evidently caught a chill and was feverish and fretful. "How could Dulcie have taken cold?"
The "old Truslow," the flapping ears, the terrible adventure of the last nurse-girl chased each other through her poor little worried mind and would not be forgotten. Crazy Sall's words came back to her, and she heard her repeat mockingly: "You don't sleep much at nights, I reckon?"
"Upon my soul it's as good as a Gilbert and Sullivan show. And we Oh, Lord! Billy, shake on it, and hats off to my distinguished friend, Truslow. He'll be President some day. Hey! What? Prosecute him? Not I." "He's done us out of a neat hatful of dollars for all that," observed the broker, suddenly grave. "Billy, it's worth the price." "We've got to make it up somehow." "Well, tell you what.
So the Truslow ghost vanished from Wavebury, and very soon from most people's memories also, but Biddy had not forgotten it when she was quite an old woman. "The wealth of a man is the number of things which he loves and blesses, which he is loved and blessed by." Carlyle.
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