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Updated: August 28, 2024
The errant prince might have entered the slumberous halls unchallenged, and walked into any of the darkened rooms whose open doors gaped for more air, without awakening the veriest Greyport flirt with his salutation.
The preacher threw himself despairingly on the ground beside him. "Speak, brother! For God's sake, speak!" It was his last whisper so faint it might have been the first of his freed soul. But he only said: "You're followin' me? You understand what I mean?" The vast dining-room of the Crustacean Hotel at Greyport, U. S., was empty and desolate.
What were his evanescent accretions, subject to improvement or removal, beside the hereditary and settled malformations of his rival? Once only, in this brief summer episode, did Sarah Walker attract the impulsive and general sympathy of Greyport.
"Ef I should say to you, Tommy, say to you to-day, right here, you must come with me, you must leave this place for a month, a year, two years maybe, perhaps forever, is there anything that 'ud keep you, anything, my boy, ez you couldn't leave?" "No," said Tommy, quietly; "I am only visiting here. I thought of leaving Greyport to-day."
A desperate idea of escape had just seized me. Bolt upright in the recess of a window sat a nursemaid who had succumbed to sleep equally with her helpless charge in the perambulator beside her. I instantly recognized the infant a popular organism known as "Baby Buckly" the prodigy of the Greyport Hotel, the pet of its enthusiastic womanhood.
So strong was this impression that an unhappy infant who unwittingly broke this interval with his maiden outcry was nearly lynched. "We're not going to stand that from YOU, you know," was the crystallized sentiment of a brutal bachelor. In fact, it began to be admitted that Greyport had been accustomed to Sarah Walker's ways.
It was so searching and sincere in its way, that, as the carriage of the fairest Miss Gillyflower rolled away, that peerless young woman, catching sight of her face in the oval mirror, instantly pulled down the blinds, and, nestling the whitest shoulders in Greyport against the crimson cushions, went to sleep. "How haggard everybody is!
Johnson, my waiter, that the unfortunate child owned a fashionable father and mother, one or two blocks of houses in New York, and a villa at Greyport, which he consistently and intelligently despised. That he had imperiously brought his parents here on account of his health, and had demanded that he should breakfast alone in the big dining-room. That, however, he was not happy.
In either event she would have "ceased from troubling," which was the general Greyport idea of higher education.
"Then you know all, Blanche?" "I know," said Blanche, "let's see I know the partiklar style of ahem! fool you was, and expected no better. Good by." And, gliding like a lovely and innocent milk snake out of his grasp, she slipped away. To the pleasant ripple of waves, the sound of music and light voices, the yellow midsummer moon again rose over Greyport.
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