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Tweksbury the real thing, you know, and she reached and got it over to him, that it was up to them to keep it clean. Gee! Joan, her past sounds like a tract with all the sobs left out and a lot of iron put in. "Raymond, in a year or two, married a woman who lived only long enough to produce this man upon whose trail we're scouting.
Raymond grew hot and cold. "What do you mean?" he asked, and glared shamelessly. "I mean," Mrs. Tweksbury confronted Raymond as if repudiating him forever, "I mean that you've let the chance of your life slip through your fingers and fall into the gaping mouth of that Clive Cameron. It's disgusting, nothing less!" "Aunt Emily! What in thunder do you mean?
David started, but made no remark. "And when we return," Doris went on, "I am going to bring the girls out I hate the term, I'd rather say let them out just as Merry and I were, in this dear, old house. Mrs. Tweksbury and I have planned rather a brilliant campaign."
Life lacks salt; you look the need of it and I blame myself for going abroad." "I'm glad you went!" fervently said Raymond. "You are, eh? Well, I'm not going again until you're safely married." At this Raymond found that he could laugh, and just then the hatchet fell, for Doctor Martin had entered the arena and Mrs. Tweksbury had agreed to help.
He recalled what Mrs. Tweksbury had said about the type being the ideal of man or something like that and Cameron, whom he had just met a few weeks before, had apparently got into action. After Nancy came Doctor Martin it was as if the male element surrounded the girl. She was rather breath-taking and radiant. She wore a coral-pink satin gown, very short and narrow.
She can see more through keyholes than others do through barn doors, and her scent is phenomenal!" Joan hugged her knees and looked grave. "I I hate to snoop, Pat," she whispered. "You don't have to I got Hannah's snoops for you. They're innocent enough really, they're the soundest of sound little nuts. "Mrs. Tweksbury had a romance! Don't grin, Joan.
"Ken, what have you been doing to yourself?" she had asked. "Just pegging away, Aunt Emily." "Ken," Mrs. Tweksbury had an awful habit of felling the obvious by a blow of her common-sense hatchet; "Ken, you've got to be married. You're not the kind to float around town and enjoy it and you are the kind that would enjoy the other." "Oh! I'm having a bully time, Aunt Emily." "That's not true, Ken.
When Nancy and Joan stood before her, she regarded them with almost tragic, and, at the same time, comic expression. The children were frightened at her twitching, wrinkled face and glanced at Doris, who smiled them into calmness. In Joan, Mrs. Tweksbury saw resemblance to no one she remembered, so she concluded she must be like the father, physically, whom they must all ignore absolutely.
After a short time Raymond began to feel the pressure of Nancy's little body in his arms when their dance was over. He began to resent other arms about her. Her eyes were lovely so blue and sympathetic. She never set a man guessing. Raymond had had enough of guessing! About that time Mrs. Tweksbury added an urge to her heart's desire that she little suspected.
After the death of all those who had been concerned in her secret romance she had taken upon herself the more or less vicarious guardianship of the son of the man she had loved and foregone. The boy lived with his mother's people, and Mrs. Tweksbury only visited him occasionally; but her proud, stern old heart knew only one undying passion now her passion for children.
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