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Updated: June 22, 2025
If I had not caught a glimpse of the opening words in the second act I should never have finished it, but as I stooped to pick it up, my eyes became riveted to the open page, and with a cry of terror, or perhaps it was of joy so poignant that I suffered in every nerve, I snatched the thing out of the coals and crept shaking to my bedroom, where I read it and reread it, and wept and laughed and trembled with a horror which at times assails me yet.
If Everett had noted the crafty expression on the squatter's face as the latter walked down the street, he would not have been so satisfied over his deal with Lon. After he was alone, he reread Cronk's letter. Later he wrote steadily for sometime. His communication also was for Fledra, and he intended by hook or crook to get it to her with the other.
She read the letter twice, and then sat for some time considering the kind of letter Philip would have written had he known her secret had he known that the ring he had abandoned was now upon her finger. She rose and, crossing to a desk, placed the letter in a drawer, and then took it out again and reread the last page. When she had finished it she was smiling.
"You certainly have your share this year," she said, laughing. "Do you remember what a slough of despond you were in a year ago?" Alida smiled happily, and then hid her face in a great bunch of roses on her dressing-table. The little note that had come with the flowers was still in her hand, and she had just reread it. "St. Valentine has brought me something else," she said, hesitatingly.
In the first place, it was re-written merely for her, with no intention of publication; but she was so delighted with it, and read and reread it so untiringly, that it occurred to me other children might like to hear it also. The little volume in question Mrs. Burnett afterwards discovered to be entitled "Granny's Wonderful Chair and the Tales it Told."
What's the answer?" Bassett made no reply. He picked up the paper and pointed to an item with the end of his pencil. "Seen this?" The night editor read it with bewilderment. He glanced up. "What's that got to do with the Clark case?" "Nothing. Nice people, though. Know them both." When the night editor walked away, rather affronted, Bassett took up the paper and reread the paragraph.
On the flyleaf of her worn copy, which in later years she presented to the Library of Congress, she wrote, "This book was carried in my satchel for years and read and reread. The noble words of Elizabeth Barrett, as Wendell Phillips always called her, sunk deep into my heart. I have always cherished it above all other books.
Invariably, he would move his work to a window where he had the whole street under his observation. Then he would proceed with his indexing with more and more difficulty. At first the paragraphs would lose connection, and he would be forced to reread them. Then the sentences would drop apart. Immediately before the girl arrived, the words themselves grew anarchic.
As Rose reread the throbbing lines and pictured the eager-eyed young mother, her own sweet face glowed with reflected joy and with the knowledge that this ecstasy, this deeper understanding could come to her, too Martin, he was vigorous, so worthy of being the father of her children. He would love them, of course, and provide for them better than any other man she knew.
Whitney read and reread this note, the words of the detective regarding the private secretary were recalled to his mind, and he muttered, "Yes, Merrick was right. It is very evident the young man is not 'looking for a job; but I'll be blessed if I know what to think of him!" Upon Mr. Whitney's return to Fair Oaks, he found the guests assembled on the veranda, overlooking the river, Mr.
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