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Updated: June 18, 2025
They say Levine's land hungry enough to marry a squaw. He's so dark, I wouldn't be surprised if he had Indian blood himself. Land knows nothing would surprise me about him. They say he's just naturally crooked." Lydia and Florence Dombey suddenly stood in front of Elviry. "Don't you say such things about Mr. Levine," said Lydia slowly, cheeks bright, eyes as blue as Florence Dombey's.
It was found that he held heavily mortgaged second growth timber lands in the northern part of the State and Kent spent a month superintending a re-survey of them. He was very much broken up by Levine's death, and welcomed the heavy work. In spite of Lydia's deep affection for Levine, she did not feel his death as much as Amos did.
Then they discovered that Levine's middle name was Adam, and Adam the brindle bull became, forthwith. Lydia made no objection to returning to the old room. It had lost its familiar outlines.
Kent was inclined to be stiff, at first, and to wear a slightly injured air, and yet, mingled with this was a frank and youthful bravado. And there could be no doubt that among the college boys, Kent was more or less of a hero. It was something to boast of, evidently, to have one's name coupled with Levine's in the great scandal.
Lydia ran through the little house eagerly. It was full of windows and being all on one floor, gave a fine effect of spaciousness. It was an old house but in excellent repair as was all John Levine's property. "I'm going to have the bedroom off the kitchen, 'cause you can see the lake from it," she told the driver. "It'll be colder'n charity in the winter.
They drove to the Willows and Margery went through her paces, while her father watched and applauded from the shore. When they had finished and had run up and down to warm up and dry off and were driving home, Dave said, "You'd better come in to supper with us, Lydia." "No, thank you," answered the child. "Mr. Levine's coming to supper at our house and I have to cook it." "Hum!
I've reached that heavenly, shining shore My heaven, my home, for evermore." Suddenly the nurse shifted John's head and Doc Fulton lifted Lydia to her feet. "Take her home, Amos," he said. John Levine had finished the Great Search. Curiously enough, nothing could have done so much toward reinstating Lake City in the good opinion of the country at large as did Levine's tragic death.
"By the way," he added, "that cottage of John Levine's is right on the shore." He spoke with studied carelessness. Lydia had a passion for the water. She stared at him now, with the curiously pellucid gaze that belongs to some blue eyed children and Amos had a vague sense of discomfort, as if somehow, he were not playing the game quite fairly.
Plans were begun immediately for a Fourth of July celebration upon the reservation. Kent to his lasting regret missed the celebration. Immediately after school closed he had gone into Levine's office and had been sent to inspect Levine's holdings in the northern part of the State. Levine returned the last week in June and took charge of the preparations.
He moved his chair toward the stove, put his feet on the fender, lighted his pipe and then sat without moving until a stamping of feet and a hearty rap on the door roused him. Lizzie let John Levine in. "Where's Lydia?" was Levine's first Question. Lizzie pointed to the couch, where, undisturbed, Lydia slept on. "Good!" said John.
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