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Updated: June 13, 2025
It wasn't wholly an interrogation it seemed to Madison that there was even sympathy in the parlor-car conductor's voice, as the other took his seat check. "Health," said Madison meekly. "Perfect rest and quiet been overdoing it, you know." "Needley!" the train conductor of the Bar Harbor Express, collecting the transportation, threw the word at Madison as though it were a personal affront.
"I didn't mean it" Doc Madison's gray eyes twinkled. "You are waking up, too, Helena. I mean, Flopper, you've got to remember that you were born twisted up into the same shape you are in when you hit Needley. You come from let's see we'll have to have a big city where the next door neighbors pass each other with a vacant stare. Ever been in Chicago?" "Naw!
The old life had never brought her thoughts such as these, thoughts that had been with her now almost since the first day she had come to Needley this disquiet, this self-questioning, these sudden floods of condemnatory confusion; and, mingling with them, a startled thrill, a strange, half-glad, half-premonitory awakening, a vague pronouncement that innately it might be true that she was not what she really was but what all those around her held her to be what Mrs.
"Say," said Madison slowly, "first crack out of the box this looks bad, don't it? If this gets around here without a muffler on it, it might make the railroad companies hang fire with those circulars for excursion rates to Needley what?" "I I think I hate you!" Helena cried out suddenly, passionately. "She's she's dead and that's all you think about!" Madison stared at Helena for a moment calmly.
Needley awoke and came to life as from the dead. There was bustle, activity, and suppressed and unsuppressed excitement on every hand the Waldorf Hotel once more opened its doors the Congress Hotel was already full. The reporters interviewed everybody with but one exception the Patriarch.
He drew it from his pocket, ran his eye down the long list of stations and stopped at "Needley." Needley had an asterisk after it. By consulting a block of small type at the bottom of the page, he found a corresponding asterisk with the words: "Flag station. Stops only on signal, or to discharge eastbound passengers from Portland."
The main thing is that the car won't be here in the morning, and that'll take a little of the intimate touch of Needley off. It might well have happened on her way home journey too much for her left too soon see? Thornton'll see it in the right light because he's got fifty thousand dollars worth of faith in what's going on here get that?
"And I never half appreciated the old town nor the fulness thereof until I came to Needley!" said Madison plaintively to the toe of his boot, while his hand scrawled the inquiry: "What is her name?" "Vail," wrote the Patriarch. "That was her father's name. She is my grand-niece on her mother's side. I do not know what they christened her."
John Garfield Madison went into the smoking compartment of the car for a cigar several cigars until Needley was reached some two hours later, when the dusky attendant, as he pocketed Madison's dollar, set down his little rubber-topped footstool with a flourish on a desolate and forbidding-looking platform.
For upwards of an hour, it had taken him that long, he had been engaged, having decided that the time was ripe, in telling the Patriarch that his grand-niece had been found and that now it was only necessary to write and ask her to come to Needley. The Patriarch's fine old face was aglow with pleasure as he finally understood.
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