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Updated: June 8, 2025
And look here, Lois, you must not let anybody see you are not in sympathy with Helen's choice; be careful of that tongue of yours, child. It's bad taste to make one's private disappointments public. I wouldn't speak of it even to your aunt Deely, if I were you."
"'The weary roond, the deely task," quoted Tam, taking the steaming mug of tea from his servant's hands. "What likes the mornin', Horace?" "Fine, Sergeant clear sky an' all the stars are out."
"'Emily Wornum, whar you er huntin' the dead you oughter hunted the livin'. What's betwix' you an' your Maker I can't tell, says I, 'but if you git down on your face an' lick the dirt what Deely Bivins walked on, still you won't be humble enough for to go whar she's gone, nor good enough nuther.
Deely made a motion like a swoop of an aeroplane to earth "and here he is buckin' about like a rough-neck same as you and me; but yet a gent, a swell, a cream della cream, that's turned his back on a lady a lady not his own wife, that's my sure and sacred belief." "You certainly have got women on the brain," retorted Sibley. "I ain't ever seen such a man as you.
Was it not something to see you and Donagh coming from a miserable place in the bog? Mrs. Blessed be God! Is Curley the planter gone from Carrabane? Don't make any lie to me, Hugh Deely. Hugh: Curley is gone. Mrs. What about his trollop of a wife? Donagh: The whole brood and tribe of them went a month back. Agnes: Did not Donagh tell you that you were back in your own place again?
In the short silence that followed, the quick-drawn breath of many excited and some agitated people could be heard. Among the latter were Mrs. Tynan and her daughter and Malachi Deely; among those who held their breath in suspence were John Sibley, Studd Bradley the financier, and the Young Doctor.
There never was a woman crossing the street on a muddy day that you didn't sprint to get a look at her ankles. Behind everything you see a woman. Horses is your profession, but woman is your practice." "There ain't but one thing worth livin' for, and that's a woman," remarked Deely. "Do you tell Mrs. Deely that?" asked Sibley. "Watch me now, she knows.
If you have no sense, I'll take the matter into my own hands. If people choose to gossip about your being here a few days or a week, it may take a week for this folly to blow over, why, they can, that's all. I will not you hear me, Helen? I will not enter into any absurd explanations." Helen lifted her heavy eyes, and looked at him a moment, and then she said, "Aunt Deely?" Dr.
"Ef it hadn't er bin fer de high-strungity-head-strongityness er de Bushrod blood, Miss Deely wouldn't 'a never runn'd off wid Clay Bivins in de roun' worril, dough he 'uz des one er de nicest w'ite mens w'at you 'mos' ever laid yo' eyes on.
Soon ez she done dat, wud went 'roun' fum de big house dat de nigger w'at call Miss Deely name on dat plantation would be clap on de cote-house block, en ole Miss she shot 'erse'f up, she did, en arter dat mighty few folks got a glimpse un 'er, 'ceppin' hit 'uz some er de kin, en bless yo' soul, dey hatter look mighty prim w'en dey come whar she wuz.
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