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Updated: May 14, 2025
It was shortly after Percy Woodyard's funeral. She had been to Lakewood with her mother, and having left her comfortably settled in her favorite hotel, had taken the train for New York. Tom was to go to the theatre with her that evening, and had suggested that they dine at a little down-town restaurant he used to frequent when he was Gossom's slave. He was to meet her at the ferry.
Glad to see me?" When they were finally by themselves in a small private room of a restaurant where Conny loved to go with her husband, "because it seems so naughty," she said in answer to his look of inquiry: "Percy, I want you to take me away to Europe, just for a few weeks!" Woodyard's face reflected surprise and concern. "But, Con!" he stammered. "Please, Percy!"
They had no reason to suspect the Senator, he had always encouraged Woodyard's independent position in politics and pushed him. There was not yet sufficient evidence of fraud in the hearings before the Commission to warrant aggressive action. It would be a pity to fire too soon, or to resign and lose an opportunity later.
Then Conny turned away, and thereafter paid little attention to the Lanes, as though she wished them to understand that the luncheon was not given for them. "In this case," Cairy remarked, "Mrs. Woodyard's gibe happens to miss. I haven't forgotten the Virginian hills, and I hope you haven't." It was Cairy who explained the people to Isabelle:
You must live, live, live greatly, for us both!" Margaret fled to her room, knelt down beside the boy's bed, with clasped hands, her eyes shining down on the sleeping child, a smile on her face. Cornelia Woodyard's expression was not pleasant when she was deliberating or in perplexity. Her broad brow wrinkled, and her mouth drew down at the corners, adding a number of years to her face.
"Is he interesting, your doctor?" Isabelle asked idly. "That's as you take him," Margaret replied with a little smile. "Not from Conny Woodyard's point of view, I should say. He has too many blind sides. But I have come to think him a really great man! And that, my dear, is more than what we used to call 'interesting." "But how can he do his work up here?" "That's the wonderful part of it all!
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