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I believe you'll do what's best for everybody in the end. And I am glad that your father and Margaret take your view of that woman." "I was sure she wasn't right and I knew Mr. Bines was too much of a man to speak of her as he did without positive knowledge. Now please give me some tea and funny little cakes; I'm famished." "Speaking of Mr. Bines," said Mrs.
"It's funny that's exactly what I told Aunt Cornelia about that that man." "Let's stop joking, then." "How absurd you are with my plans all made and the day set " There was a knock at the door. He went over and unlocked it. Jarvis was there. "Mr. Shepler, Miss Avice." They looked at each other. "Jarvis, shut that door and wait outside." "Yes, Mr. Bines." "You can't see him."
The first frosts, on the other hand, shrivel the bines of white bryony, which part and hang separated, and in the spring a fresh bine pushes up with greyish green leaves and tendrils feeling for support. It is often observed that the tendrils of this bryony coil both ways, with and against the sun.
There, that's for you, and that's for Briggs and thank you both very much!" "Child, child! what does it mean?" "Mr. Bines is my husband, Muetterchen, and we're leaving for the West in the morning." The excitement did not abate for ten minutes or so. "And do say something cheerful, dear," pleaded Avice, at parting.
"Far be it from me to impugn the religion of that community of which we are ceasing to be integers at the pleasing rate of sixty miles an hour. God knows they need their faith in a different kind of land hereafter!" And even Mrs. Bines was not without a sense of quiet and rest induced by the gentler contours of the landscape through which they now sped.
"Thank the Lord we're under way at last!" cried Percival, fervently, when the group at the station had been shut from view. "Isn't it just heavenly!" exclaimed his sister. "Think of having all of New York you want being at home there and not having to look forward to this desolation of a place." Mrs. Bines was neither depressed nor elated.
Into this maelstrom of a panic market the Bines fortune had been sucked with a swiftness so terrible that the family's chief advising member was left dazed and incredulous. For two days he clung to the ticker tape as to a life line. He had committed the millions of the family as lightly as ever he had staked a hundred dollars on the turn of a card or left ten on the change-tray for his waiter.
"This country is for you as much as for him. Now, there's Augusta Hartong those mixed-pickle millionaires, you know. I was chatting with Augusta's mother only the other day, and if I'd only suspected this " "Awfully kind of you, Mrs. Drelmer, but it's no use. I'm fairly played out. I shall go to see Miss Bines, and have a chat with her people, you know."
On the farther side of his closed door the Baron Ronault de Palliac swore once. But the oath was one of the most awful that a Frenchman may utter in his native tongue: "Sacred Name of a Name!" "But the baron wasn't done eating," protested Mrs. Bines. "Ah, yes, madame!" replied Philippe. "Monsieur le Baron has consumed enough for now. Paul, mon enfant, ne touche pas la robe de madame!
She had no leading to ally herself against her children in their wish to go East, nor against Uncle Peter Bines in his stubborn effort to keep them West. She folded her hands to wait on the others. And the battle raged. The old man, sole defender of the virtuous and stalwart West against an East that he alleged to be effete and depraved, had now resorted to sarcasm, a thing that Mr.
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