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Updated: August 29, 2024
"I want to feel free to eat as much as I like." And it was so arranged. Away he went to look up his acquaintances, while Susan sat listening to the widow and trying to convince her that she and Mr. Burlingham didn't want and couldn't possibly eat all the things she suggested as suitable for a nice supper. Susan had been learning rapidly since she joined the theatrical profession.
Burlingham, aided by those highly favorable surroundings of the show boat, and of the vagabond life thereafter, had developed in her that gambler's spirit which had enabled him to play year after year of losing hands with unabating courage the spirit that animates all the brave souls whose deeds awe the docile, conventional, craven masses of mankind.
Sutherland a faint, faint dream, and the show boat also. Spenser a romantic dream or a first installment of a love-story read in some stray magazine. Burlingham the theatrical agent the young man of the previous afternoon the news of the death that left her quite alone all a dream, a tumbled, jumbled dream, all passed with the night and the awakening.
"It'll soak in soon enough," Miss Connemora went on. "No use rubbing it in." "What?" said Susan, thinking to show her desire to be friendly, to be one of them. "Dirt," said Burlingham dryly. "And don't ask any more questions." When the three women had cleared away the dinner and had stowed the dishes in one of the many cubbyholes along the sides of the cabin, the three men got ready for a nap.
"That's best isn't it?" Miss Connemora's eyes dropped. "Yes, I guess it is," replied she. "Well I turn down this way." "We'll keep on and go out Chestnut Street," said Burlingham. "You can write to her or to me care of the General Delivery." "That's best. You may hear from Tempest. You can write me there, too." Mabel was constrained and embarrassed. "Good-by, Miss Sackville."
They knew I couldn't get justice. So I let 'em believe I owned the boat and I've got fifty apiece for us." "Sixty," said Violet. "Fifty. There are six of us." "You don't count in this little Jonah here, do you?" cried Violet, scowling evilly at Susan. "No no don't count me in," begged Susan. "I didn't lose anything." Mabel pinched her arm. "You're right, Mr. Burlingham," said she.
Great then was her disappointment when the morning of the day arrived, to receive a short note from Christopher saying that he was extremely sorry to inconvenience her, but that his business engagements made it impossible for him to take her to Burlingham that day; and adding various apologies and hopes that she would not be too angry with him.
You'll pull through." Susan understood that nothing more was to be said before Pat. Soon Burlingham told him to tie the oar again and retire to the cabin. "I'll stand watch," said he. "I want to talk business with Miss Sackville." When Pat had gone, Burlingham gave her a sympathetic look. "No confidences, mind you, my dear," he warned.
"What do you mean?" cried Violet, whose left eye was almost closed by a bruise. "We'll not see him again. Come on." "Bob!" shrieked Violet at Burlingham. "Do you hear that?" "Yes," said he. "Keep calm, and come on." "Aren't you going to do anything?" she screamed, seizing him by the coat tail. "You must, damn it you must!" "I got the policeman to telephone headquarters," said Burlingham.
It takes time, you see, to grow an idea, as to grow a colt or a boy, to its full size. President Burlingham, who in his day drew the bill that made it lawful to use the schools for neighborhood purposes other than the worship of those same three R's, went around with me one night to see what ailed the children who would not play.
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