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Young Cale Vick stood for a long time looking down at the inert thing at his feet. Then he calmly stooped over and placed the pistol in one of the outstretched hands, closing the stiff fingers over it. Scattering the fire with his feet, he trampled out what was left of the feeble flames, and then strode to the mouth of the cave. He stood rigid for a long time, listening.
"Did you ever know for sure whether you got a German?" asked the intense young Caleb. "I mean, did you ever KILL one?" "That's pretty hard to say, Cale. We never knew, you see, we fellows up in the clouds. I was in a bombing machine. I'd hate to think that we WASTED any bombs." "Come now, all of you, off to bed," interposed Mrs. Vick. "I don't want to hear any more, Courtney.
Barker would never do for a pirate," laughed Lady Victoria; "he would be always getting his feet wet and having attacks of neuralgia." "Take care, Vick," said her brother, "he might hear you." "Well, if he did? I only said he would get his feet wet. There is no harm in that, and it is clear he has neuralgia, because he says it himself." "Well, of course," said the Duke, "if that is what you mean.
So I enter, steal up-stairs, and open the door of my boudoir, which Barbara and I, when alone, make our usual sitting-room. The candles are unlit; and the warm fire evidently long undisturbed is shedding only a dull and deceiving light on all the objects over which it ranges. So far, at least, Fortune favors me. Barbara and Vick are sitting on the hearth-rug, side by side.
I've been thinking a lot about what you said awhile ago. You don't think that he had anything to do with with putting the Vick girl out of the way? You spoke about him being mistaken in the woman." "He had nothing to do with it, Webster. I told you I saw a figure in the pasture after he had gone into the house. If it was the Vick girl, she was certainly alive then.
"What life? You don't mean the hardware business?" "Don't be silly! ... You can't go on living over here alone by yourself with that child." "Why not?" "Oh, because you must do something, Vick! I want you to be famous." "That doesn't seem quite possible, now," he replied gently. "You'll come and live with me oh, I need you, Vick!"
When the hall door clicked, she rose from the lounge and dragged herself to the window to watch him, holding her breath, her heart beating rapidly, almost glad that he was strong enough to take his fate in his hands, to test life, to break the rules, to defy reason! "Vick, dear Vick," she murmured. In the room below Mrs.
But why should Vickers have given up what seemed to him right, what was his life and hers, just for our prejudices about not having our names in the papers?" "That wasn't all!" "Well, I shall always believe in Vick, no matter what comes of it.... Marriage the regular thing doesn't seem to be such a great success with many people, I know.
"You remember, we talked about him once. I do not like Mr. Barker very much." "Oh, he is no end of a good fellow in his way," said her brother. "Have you a any reason for not liking him, Vick?" "I think he is spiteful. He says such horrid things." "Does he? What about?" said the Duke indifferently, as he tore a bit of charred paper from the end of his cigarette, which had burned badly.
'Come along, you little Vick, I said, for so we called her; 'I have a message to you, Gwenny, from the Lord in heaven. 'Don't 'ee talk about He, she answered; 'Her have long forgatten me. 'That He has never done, you stupid. Come, and see who is in the cowhouse. Gwenny knew; she knew in a moment. Looking into my eyes, she knew; and hanging back from me to sigh, she knew it even better.
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