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Updated: June 17, 2025
The rescue of Marian from the Willings was taken out of his hands without friction, and there remained only himself against whom to vent his anger. He was curiously agitated by the encounter. The ironic phrases he had already coined for Marian's discomfiture clinked into the melting-pot. Sylvia was turning away and he must say something, though he could not express a gratitude he did not feel.
This shot was well aimed, and Bassett blinked, but he felt that he must exercise his parental authority. If he had been culpable in neglecting Blackford he could still take a hand in Marian's affairs. "So I did," he replied. "But I'm going to telegraph Marian to come home. What's the Willings' address?" "Oh, you'll find it on a picture postal card somewhere about.
The nurse is trying to get her to sleep." "Oh, then of course I shan't stop," and Sylvia turned to go. "How soon will Marian be home?" "To-morrow evening; I'm going up to get her to-night," he answered harshly. "You are going to the Willings to come home with her?" asked Sylvia, surprised by his gruffness. He spoke in a lower tone. "You didn't see to-day's papers?
A little later Crittenden saw the stout civilian, Major Billings, fairly puffing with pride, excitement, and a fine uniform of khaki, whom he had met at Chickamauga; and Willings, the surgeon; and Chaffee, now a brigadier; and Lawton, soon to command a division; and, finally, little Jerry Carter, quiet, unassuming, dreamy, slight, old, but active, and tough as hickory.
"Don't put him in there, please," nodding toward the trench behind the tents; "and mark his grave, won't you, Doctor? He's my bunkie." "All right," said Willings, kindly. "And Doctor, give me that what he has in his hand, please. I know her." A tent at Siboney in the fever-camp overlooking the sea. "Judith! Judith! Judith!" The doctor pointed to the sick man's name. "Answer him?"
Willings turned and motioned the fielders back, and in obedience Satterlee, 2d, crept farther out toward the edge of the field. But presently, when a ball had been delivered to the batsman, Satterlee, 2d, quite unconsciously, moved eagerly, anxiously in again, step by step. Then came a strike and Carpenter tapped the plate with the end of his bat and waited calmly. Another ball.
Perhaps it was the coaching back of third, perhaps it was Carpenter's disconcerting rushes and hand-clapping. At all events, the Durham first baseman, who was a cool-headed youth, waited politely and patiently and so won the privilege of trotting to first on four balls. Fearing, Willard's catcher, walked down to Willings, and the two held a whispered conversation.
You may have the satisfaction of knowing that if you would let her go to the Willings' with Allen Thatcher I can at least bring her back after you failed to do it." "So you did hear from her, did you! Of course you couldn't have told me: I suppose you confide in Miss Garrison now," she ended drearily.
Beeton followed with a scratch hit just back of shortstop and the bases were full. Up on the terrace the cheering was continuous. Williams was struck out. Then came Willings with a short hit past third and Don scored. And the bases were still full. But the next man flied out to left fielder and the cheering died away.
Born and bred in a town where social life is large, constant, and gay, Carlisle could not help being struck by the fact that the Willings, roughly speaking, had no friends.
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