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Updated: May 4, 2025
He walked thoughtfully up from the landing stage to the Secretariat, where he ascended to the room of Mr. Wilbraham. Mr. Wilbraham was not, of course, there; he was over at the Assembly Hall. But his secretary was there; a cheerful young lady typing letters with extraordinary efficiency and rapidity. "Oh," said Henry, "I'm sorry. I thought Mr. Wilbraham might possibly be here."
Helen May was secretly aghast at the pile of scrawled writing interlined and crossed out, with marginal notes and footnotes and references and what not; but she let herself in for the job of typing his book for him which is enough for the present. "'The human polyp incessantly builds upon a coral reef.
He had lighted the torch in Toni's soul, and he could only hope that no adverse breath would blow to extinguish its flame. "Toni, I have a proposal to make. Suppose you stop typing for a little while and listen to me. Will you, dear?" Toni, all the colour slipping out of her face, put down the sheet she had just taken up and waited obediently to hear Owen's proposal.
She handed him her editor's letters and pushed a small pile of manuscript towards his elbow. 'There. It will take you about a quarter of an hour to digest all that; and meanwhile, if you don't mind the noise, I shall go on typing something I've got to send off by to-morrow's mail. She settled herself at the typewriter, her back partially turned to him.
WARREN REYBURN laid down his pen and shoved back his office chair impatiently, stretching out his long muscular limbs nervously and rubbing his hands over his eyes as if to clear them from annoying visions. James Ryan, his office boy and stenographer, watched him furtively from one corner of his eye, while his fingers whirled the typewriter on through the letter he was typing.
"Apparently not. She left us, anyway. She didn't understand Wenham in the least. I shouldn't be surprised," Elizabeth went on, "to hear that she was a hospital nurse, or learning typing, or a clerk in an office. She was a young woman of gloomy ideas, although she was my sister." He came a little closer towards her. "Elizabeth," he said, "we will not talk any more about Beatrice.
With that she reached out one hand to me, with that pretty droop of the left corner of her mouth, that already had begun to fascinate me.... "Help me up ... a hammock's a nice place to be in, but an awkward thing to get out of." I took her hand and helped her rise to a sitting posture. "Ruth's in the little house typing ... Penton and Darrie are a-field taking a walk." I paused where I was. Mrs.
We stepped back into Bohun's room and, if I had had any anxieties, they would at once, I think, have been reassured by the unemotional figure of Bohun's typist, a gay young woman with peroxide hair, who was typing away as though for her very life. "Look here, Bohun, can I talk to you alone for a minute?" I asked. The peroxide lady left us.
In spite of their acrimonious tilts over the card table, he and the baron were as thick as could be when it came to the question of the derelict countess. They maintained the strictest privacy and resented even the polite interest of their four American friends. Finding Mr. Poopendyke at work over some typing one day, Mr.
It had the effervescent quality which the reading public loves to associate with stage life and stage people. Beyond that, nothing. Banneker mailed it to Miss Westlake for typing, had a bath, and went to bed. At noon he was at The Ledger office, fresh, alert, and dispassionately curious to ascertain the next resolution of the mix-up between the paper and himself.
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