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Updated: June 14, 2025
But Verena, muffled and escaping, was deaf to him, and Ransom didn't look the right person to address such a remark as that to. Mrs. Burrage and Olive, as the latter shot past, exchanged a glance which represented quick irony on one side and indiscriminating defiance on the other. "Oh, are you going to speak?" the lady from New York inquired, with her cursory laugh.
To get around the tules comfortably you have to strike farther in and that's a long way. The last house before you get to Tito Murano's, which doesn't count, is the Burrage Ranch. In the white mansions among the fruit trees the Burrage Ranch doesn't count much either. It is old and small, fifty acres, a postage stamp of a ranch.
Captain Burrage dropped back to kicking position on the thirty-five-yard line and once more Brimfield's goal was in danger. The pass was straight and true. Burrage dropped the ball and swung his foot. But two Brimfield forwards had broken through and as the ball left the ground Andy Miller blocked it.
I don't care in the least whether I agree with you," Ransom said, looking askance at young Mr. Burrage, who had detached himself and was getting something for Verena to eat. "Ah, well, if you are so indifferent!" "It's not because I'm indifferent!" His eyes came back to her own, the expression of which had changed before they quitted them.
It seemed to her strange that Verena should urge her to take such a step when she was free to go without her, and it proved two things: first, that she was much interested in Mr. Henry Burrage, and second, that her nature was extraordinarily beautiful.
On a bright Saturday afternoon Chrystie and Sadie were sitting on the front balcony in the shade of the Marechal Niel rose. Mrs. Burrage and Lorry had gone for a drive, later to meet Mark who was to stay with them over Sunday at the station. Upstairs Aunt Ellen and Mrs. Kirkham were closeted with a dressmaker, fashioning festal attire.
It was a little after eleven o'clock when Burrage threw open the door of the study where she was sitting with her uncle and announced "The dear children, sir," in a matter-of-fact tone, as if they were daily visitors. Bessie's back was to the door.
"Ah, sir, if you would but let Mr. John Short speak before the story gets round to your respected father the wrong way!" pleaded Burrage. Mr. Laurence Fairfax did not answer her. She said no more, but shook her head and went away, leaving him to his reflections, which were more mischievous than the reflections of philosophers are commonly supposed to be.
Cousin Burrage! And Lady Diana Chillingworth to hear it! oh, I should sink into the earth." "What amusement," continued Miss Burrage, addressing herself to Lady Di., "what amusement Lady Frances Somerset can find at a Bristol playhouse, and at this time of the year too, is to me really unaccountable." Frances, I am half dead."
It came over her that Mr. Ransom had given up his work to come to her at such an hour; people of his kind, in the morning, were always getting their living, and it was only for Mr. Burrage that it didn't matter, inasmuch as he had no profession. Mr. Ransom simply wanted to give up his whole day.
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