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Updated: July 28, 2025
The Elwell business was settled when the suit was withdrawn. Nothing I could have told you would have helped you to find your husband." Mary continued to scrutinize him. "Then why are you telling me now?" Still Parvis did not hesitate. "Well, to begin with, I supposed you knew more than you appear to I mean about the circumstances of Elwell's death.
This money was rightly his; he had earned every cent of it. It would surely last him until he found employment elsewhere. At any rate, he would go; and even if he starved, he would never come back to Aunt Harriet's! When he reached home, he found Mrs. Elwell in an unusual state of worry. Lige had given warning and this on the verge of harvest!
His lips were set and there was an air of resolution as plainly visible on his small, freckled face as if it had been stamped there. Mrs. Elwell saw him flying around, and her grim features took on a still grimmer expression. "Ches is mighty lively tonight," she muttered. "I s'pose he's in a gog to be off on some foolishness with Henry Wilson. Well, he won't, and he needn't think it."
"Came for Boyne? The day he went away?" Parvis's voice dropped as hers rose. He bent over, laying a fraternal hand on her, as if to coax her gently back into her seat. "Why, Elwell was dead! Don't you remember?" Mary sat with her eyes fixed on the picture, unconscious of what he was saying. "Don't you remember Boyne's unfinished letter to me the one you found on his desk that day?
Paul Wayland Bartlett, Herbert Adams, Charles Niehaus, John J. Boyle, Frank Elwell, Frederick Ruckstuhl, to mention only a few of them, are all men of originality and power, whose work is a pleasure and an inspiration, and to whose hands the future of American sculpture may safely be confided.
Elwell, of Miss Barton's staff, was taking care of two or three thousand refugees at Firmeza, a small village in the hills back of Siboney, and we hoped soon to enter the harbor of Santiago, discharge the cargo of the State of Texas at a pier, assort it in a warehouse, and prosecute the work of relief upon a more extensive scale.
"But who is this Elwell? I don't know the name." "Oh, he's a fellow I put into it gave him a hand up. I told you all about him at the time." "I daresay. I must have forgotten." Vainly she strained back among her memories. "But if you helped him, why does he make this return?" "Oh, probably some shyster lawyer got hold of him and talked him over. It's all rather technical and complicated.
It was written just after he'd heard of Elwell's death." She noticed an odd shake in Parvis's unemotional voice. "Surely you remember that!" he urged her. Yes, she remembered: that was the profoundest horror of it. Elwell had died the day before her husband's disappearance; and this was Elwell's portrait; and it was the portrait of the man who had spoken to her in the garden.
I heard lots of people say the same thing. You ought to have heard what the women said about that corner, Sophia. They said well, I'd be ashamed to tell you what they said. I declare if I wouldn't!" Mr. Elwell asked, "What did you think of that big ox we've heard so much about?" "I didn't look at the stock," returned his sister indifferently.
Robert Elwell, a merchant of that place, and well inclined toward the British Interest, who is desirous of sending provisions to Spain and Portugal for the use of the allied armies in the Peninsula, and whereas I think it fit and necessary that encouragement and protection should be afforded him in so doing,
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