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Updated: May 6, 2025
He had been exceedingly well paid better paid than he would have been anywhere else. He regretted his fanciful dreams about Blue Sea his silly enthusiasm in tying up all his money in that. Would Mrs. Dale go to Winfield? Would her talk do him any real harm there? Winfield had always been a good friend to him, had manifested a high regard. This charge, this talk of abduction.
It had been while he was first perfecting his undertaking with Winfield as to what his relationship to the new Sea Island Construction Company was to be that Eugene had been dwelling more and more fondly upon the impression which Suzanne Dale had originally made upon him. It was six weeks before they met again, and then it was on the occasion of a dance that Mrs.
This would clear Winfield of a piece of property which was worth, say $60,000, but at present unsaleable, and give him magnificent holdings in the new company besides. He proposed to take a mortgage on this and all improvements the company might make in order to protect himself.
Aunt Jane looked at her kindly, with gratified pride beaming from every feature. "I wish you'd teach me to cook, Aunty," she continued, following up her advantage, "you know I'm going to marry Mr. Winfield." "Why, yes, I'll teach you where is he?" "He's outside I just came in to speak to you a minute." "You can ask him to supper if you want to." "Thank you, Aunty, that's lovely of you.
Winfield could scarcely be called a public man. Early in life he served the office of High Bailiff, and was placed upon the Commission of the Peace. He did not, upon the incorporation of the town, seek municipal honours, and he rarely took part in political action.
"They walk out some," she said, when she was halfway to the gate, "and they set up a good deal, and Miss Thorne told me she didn't know as she'd do better, but you can't rightly say they're courtin' 'cause city ways ain't like our'n." The deep colour dyed Ruth's face and her hands twitched nervously. Winfield very much desired to talk, but could think of nothing to say. The situation was tense.
After much pleading on Ruth's part, Winfield was allowed to come to the sitting room. "He'll think I'm silly, dear," she said, flushing; but, on the contrary, he shared Ruth's delight, and won Miss Ainslie's gratitude by his appreciation of her treasures. Day by day, the singular attraction grew between them. She loved Ruth, but she took him unreservedly into her heart.
"We're both too old for nonsense," she thought; and then a sudden fear struck her, that Winfield might be several years younger than she was. Immediately she despised herself. "I don't care if he is," she thought, with her cheeks crimson; "it's nothing to me. He's a nice boy, and I want to be amused." She went to her dresser, took out the large top drawer, and dumped its contents on the bed.
Kirk, in a sleeveless vest that showed up his chest and shoulders was not an inviting spectacle for a man intending assault and battery. Bailey decided to confine himself to words. There was nothing to be gained by a vulgar brawl. A dignified man of the world avoided violence. "Mr. Winfield?" "Mr. Bannister?" It was at this point that Steve, having bathed and dressed, came out on the gallery.
"Oh," she said slowly; "I we found it out last trip." "Well, we'll go, Norah as soon as I can fix it up," said her father. "And now, have you heard anything about the Winfield murderer?" "Not a thing, Daddy. Brownie thinks it's just a yarn that he was seen about here." "Oh, I don't think so at all," Mr. Linton said. "A good many people have the idea, at any rate of course they may be wrong.
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