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Updated: May 26, 2025
Whitney's expression was not lost upon Miller, who, finding him a more interesting study than Mitchell, watched him intently while appearing to be deeply engaged in examining an elevator model. "Isn't this the design copied in building your elevator, Mr. Whitney?" he asked. "Yes; that is the model I made when the elevator was built.
In the morning there were two vacancies at the breakfast table; neither Gertrude nor her father appeared. When Glover returned to the hotel at five o'clock the first person he saw was Mrs. Whitney. She and Marie, with the doctor and Allen Harrison, had arrived on the first train out of the Springs in four days, and Mrs. Whitney's greeting of Glover in the office was disconcerting.
Each finger was fitted with a wax tip, and on the index finger, distinct and plain, was the scar shaped like a half moon. Stunned, the men and women present looked first at Mrs. Whitney's hand, then at Miller, and last at Heinrich. No one spoke, and in the heavy silence the spy's labored breathing was distinct. "The game is up," he admitted slowly.
And the Japanese furniture shop and another photographer and here's the bill for bric-a-brac that's sixteen. The wine account there is one, but it ought to be Mrs. Whitney's; for entertaining. I suppose Pa and Ma would say that was a very wicked bill, now wouldn't they, Schoolmaster?" "They would indeed, Helen 'Lizy; I'm not sure that I don't agree with them.
Think it over, and if any new ideas come to you run up to Chicago and see me." Arthur did indeed think it over, every moment of that afternoon; and before going home he took a long walk alone. He saw that Charles Whitney had proposed a secret partnership, in which he was to play Whitney's game and, in exchange, was to get control of the Ranger-Whitney Company.
Miller, discouraged and broken by the long struggle, had died in the meantime. The following passage from a letter written by Whitney in February, 1805, to Josiah Stebbins, gives Whitney's views as to the treatment he had received at the hands of the authorities. He is writing from the residence of a friend near Orangeburg, South Carolina.
Or only enough to keep her barely clear of the "middle class"? Soon Whitney's voice broke in upon her torments. "I've been thinking a great deal, this last week, about Hiram Ranger." Matilda, startled, gave him a wild look. "Charles!" she exclaimed. "Exactly," said Whitney, a gleam of enjoyment in his dull eyes.
Norton. He's an expensive luxury, anyhow. I'm just as well satisfied." There was real vexation in Whitney's voice, yet as he talked he, too, seemed to cool down. I could not help thinking that both Norton and Whitney were perhaps just a bit glad at the break. Had both of them got out of each other all that they wanted Norton his reputation and Whitney what?
It was early in the month of May, when even in the Middle States it is not often comfortable to remain seated out of doors after the close of day, but Sterry and Whitney found it pleasant to occupy their chairs in front of the building, with no other protection then their own warm garments. Whitney's wound was doing so well that he expressed himself ashamed to wear his arm in a sling.
Why, my dear little Daisy, not one person in a hundred whom you might meet ever heard of Madame Whitney! In cities people don't know their very neighbors personally. They are sure to find out if there's any scandal afloat about them and that is all they do know about them. You would have a lively time of it finding Madame Whitney's without your old uncle John to pilot you through, I can tell you."
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