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Updated: June 5, 2025
Safe under lock and key, or hanging on some crag, ripening for the confectioner; or filched by some stealthy white hand, devoured by some eager lips that smile derisively at you while they nibble?" From beneath drooping lids, Alma's oblique glance noted the result of her Scipio Africanus' tactics.
Kennedy was working quickly. Motioning the officers to be seated by Thurston, he uncovered a jar which he had placed on the table. The colour had now appeared in Alma's cheeks, as if hope had again sprung in her heart, and I fancied that Halsey Post saw his claim on her favour declining correspondingly. "I want you to examine the letters in this case with me," continued Kennedy.
This went to Alma's heart, and rankled there. He should see! He should confess his error, in all its injurious and humiliating extent! At whatever cost at all but any cost the day of her triumph should come about! Foreseeing it, she had less difficulty in keeping calm when the excellencies of Mrs.
You think I can't be sincere with anybody." "Oh no, I don't." "What do you think?" "That you can't try." Alma gave another victorious laugh. Miss Woodburn and Fulkerson would once have both feigned a great interest in Alma's sketching Beaton, and made it the subject of talk, in which they approached as nearly as possible the real interest of their lives.
'You do now. They did not part in hostility. Mrs. Strangeways had the best of reasons for averting this issue, at any cost to her own feelings, which for the moment had all but escaped control. Though the complications of Alma's character puzzled her exceedingly, she knew how to smooth over the trouble which had so unexpectedly arisen. Flattery was the secret of her influence with Mrs.
Knapp sought deliberately in his coat pocket and brought forth an envelope, at sight of which Alma's mother flushed and paled. "You have a valentine, too!" cried the little girl. "Yes, it is from father. Won't you sit down, Mr. Knapp?" "No, no, I'll just run along and let you read your letter in peace. I know you want to, and I hope it brings good news.
Hugh Carnaby's miserable doom, and the dark surmises attaching to his wife, doubtless had their part in bringing about a nervous crisis; why could he not recognise this as perfectly natural, and dismiss the matter? In spite of all reasoning, Alma's image ever and again appeared to him shadowed by the gloom which involved her friend or the woman who was her friend.
Alma would cease to bear that name, and perhaps, in days to come, Mary Abbott might forget it. He could only hope so, and that the two women might come together. On Alma's side, surely, no reluctance need be feared; and Mary, after her ordeal, was giving proof of sense and character which inspired a large trust.
Harvey had succeeded in hiding his annoyance at the large debt to Dymes, a sum he could ill afford; but he was glad to have paid it, and pleased with Alma's way of dismissing it to oblivion. The talk that followed had turned his mind upon a graver trouble: he sat thinking of Hugh Carnaby. Dear old Hugh! Not long ago the report ran that his health was in a bad state.
Gilbert's home-coming was the nightmare dread that darkened poor Alma's whole horizon. One October day, two years after Gilbert's departure, Alma, standing at her window in the reflected glow of a red maple outside, looked down the lane and saw him striding up it! She had had no warning of his coming. His last letter, dated three weeks back, had not hinted at it.
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