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Updated: May 22, 2025
"Like a ghost in a blue suit," said Miss Vertrees, moving toward the street and waving a white-gloved hand in farewell to her father, who was observing them from the window of his library. "Rather tragic and altogether impossible. Do come on, mother, and let's get it over!" And Mrs. Vertrees, with many misgivings, set forth with her daughter for their gracious assault upon the New House next door.
"Yes, the the youngest," she returned, her voice so feeble it was almost a whisper. And then neither of them spoke for several long minutes. Nor did either look at the other during that silence. At last Mr. Vertrees contrived to cough, but not convincingly. "What ah what was it Mary said about him out in the hall, when she came in this afternoon?
Thus he disappeared altogether from the commercial surface at about the time James Sheridan came out securely on top; and Sheridan, until Mrs. Vertrees called upon him with her "anti-smoke" committee, had never heard the name. Mr. Vertrees, pinched, retired to his Landseers, and Mrs.
The broker informed him that "parties were interested in getting hold of the stock," and that later there might be a possible increase in the value of the large amount retained by his client. It might go "quite a ways up" within a year or so, he said, and he advised "sitting tight" with it. Mr. Vertrees went home and prayed.
I " She paused, then went on: "I didn't know just how to ask that is I didn't mention it to Mary. I didn't I " The poor lady floundered pitifully, concluding with a mumble. "So soon after after the the shock." "I don't think I've caught more than a glimpse of him," said Mr. Vertrees.
"Say as much of it as you can, mamma," said Mary, encouragingly. "I can get it, if you'll just give me one key-word." "Everything you say," Mrs. Vertrees began, timidly, "seems to have the air of it is as if you were seeking to to make yourself " "Oh, I see! You mean I sound as if I were trying to force myself to like him." "Not exactly, Mary. That wasn't quite what I meant," said Mrs.
He opened it, and she said: "Bibbs, you were coming out of the Vertreeses' house when we met you. How did you happen to be there?" "I had only been to the door," he said. "Good night, Sibyl." "Wait," she insisted. "We saw you coming out." "I wasn't," he explained, moving to depart. "I'd just brought Miss Vertrees home." "What?" she cried.
Mary Vertrees had never heard anything quite like the drawling, gentle voice or the odd implication that his not noticing the motionless state of their vehicle was an "accident." She had formed a casual impression of him, not without sympathy, but at once she discovered that he was unlike any of her cursory and vague imaginings of him.
Thus cheerfully did Mary Vertrees herald her return with her mother from their expedition among the barbarians. She came rushing into the library and threw herself into a deep chair by the hearth, laughing so uncontrollably that tears were in her eyes. Mrs.
They've got an enormous Moor of painted plaster or something in the hall, and the girl evidently thought it was to her credit that she selected it!" "They have oil-paintings, too," added Mrs. Vertrees, with a glance of gentle price at the Landseers. "I've always thought oil-paintings in a private house the worst of taste." "Oh, if one owned a Raphael or a Titian!" said Mr.
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