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Updated: June 6, 2025
'Of course! said Mistress Mary, reciting provokingly: "My lyre I tune, my voice I raise, But with my numbers mix my sighs, And whilst I sing Euphelia's praise I fix my soul on Chloe's eyes." 'How delightful, she added, 'how inspiring it is to see a young man so devoted to science, particularly to this neglected science!
"Who was Chloe?" said Mabel. "And why does Chloe's haunt walk?" asked my wife. "It's all in de tale, ma'm," Julius replied, with a deep sigh. "It's all in de tale." "Tell us the tale," I said. "Perhaps, by the time you get through, the haunt will go away and the mare will cross." I was willing to humor the old man's fancy.
'Poorly, the young gentleman replied. 'But the Count can sing, and Chloe's a real angel when she sings; and won't you, dear? she implored Chloe, to whom Caseldy addressed a prelude with a bow and a flourish of the hand. Chloe's voice flew forth. Caseldy's rich masculine matched it.
The painter squeezed a tube of white on his palette, relit his cigarette, fumbled over his sheaf of brushes and continued: "The first of every month just about now, by the way they bring twenty or thirty of these poor devils down from the mountains and lock them up in Covington jail. They pass Aunt Chloe's house.
Lapierre ground his teeth with rage at the Scotchman's accurate comprehension of the situation, and he feared that the man's words might raise a suspicion in Chloe's mind; a fear that was in a great measure allayed by her eager acceptance of his offer of assistance in the matter of supplies, and had he not already sown the seeds of a deeper regard? Once she had become his wife!
You would tell me at once, Chloe, if I was not dressed to your taste; now, wouldn't you? As for talkative, that's a sign with me of my liking people. I really don't know what to say to my duke sometimes. I sit and think it so funny to be having a duke instead of a husband. You're off! The duchess laughed at Chloe's laughter.
She is here still? And ruined, of course? 'In purse. 'That cannot be without the loss of reputation. 'Chloe's champion will grant that she is exposed to the evils of improvidence. The more brightly shine her native purity, her goodness of heart, her trustfulness. She is a lady whose exaltation glows in her abasement. 'She has, I see, preserved her comeliness, observed the duke, with a smile.
Chloe's glance strayed out over the river, where the farther bank showed only the serried sky-line of a wall of jet. Lapierre was also of the North the North as it is tonight; soft air, balmy with the incense of growing things; illusive dark, half concealing, half revealing, blurring distant outlines. A placid North, whose black waters flowed silent, smooth, deep.
Beamish? He frowned, and raised his head to convince her; but she would not be impressed, and he applied to Chloe to establish his identity. Hearing Chloe's name, the duchess called out, 'Oh! there, now, that's enough, for Chloe's my maid here, and I know she's a lady born, and we're going to be friends. Hand me to Chloe.
She spoke of feeling Chloe's eyes go through her with every word of hers that she recollected. Nor was the end of Chloe less effective upon the traitor. He was in the procession to her grave. He spoke to none. There is a line of the verse bearing the superscription, "My Reasons for Dying," that shows her to have been apprehensive to secure the safety of Mr.
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