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From: | Moll Leblanc |
Subject: | [Free-dev] tar |
Date: | Fri, 1 Sep 2006 17:58:02 +0300 |
Bradleyand her daughter, particularly the latter,
were greatlydisappointed at his absence. Once he askedher pointedly if she hadnt
anything to do downstairs.
You are not going anywhere, except to the garret
and back again.
I can remember that thing glaring at mewhen I was a
kid.
The last sentence was in the nature of a
wail.
Iwas accused of doin that and it made me mad, at
the time. But there came a day when these could be repressed nolonger.
Well, I think I know more about him than you or
Captain Cummingsdo, and I do like him.
This is a funnyworld and you cant count too much on
whats liable to happen init.
Shecalled one afternoon when Benjamin was out and
she asked somepointed questions. He and his wife had a fine home, butwere seldom in
it. It is her house, of course, but she is good enough to askme to share it with
her.
Promptness in replywould be considered a
favor.
This is a funnyworld and you cant count too much on
whats liable to happen init.
Well, at least,he had said no more foolish
things.
This townscarcely knows that the Revolution has
ended yet.
Mary heard it all, to the very end, her lips
tightening and hercolor rising as she listened. And the resultof his thinking was
not flattering to his self-respect or hiscommon sense. Once he askedher pointedly if
she hadnt anything to do downstairs. Then he married the wealthy widow of aretired
silver mining magnate. Now he appeared to have forgotten the matter; at least
henever referred to it.
But sometimes, with a grin and a wink, youcan help
to make it happen. Well, I think I know more about him than you or Captain
Cummingsdo, and I do like him.
Benjamin wasfaithful to the letter of this
agreement. There was indignation in the Bradley household when he broke thenews to
his Aunt Emma.
That affair the day of our missionary box meeting
was mostregrettable, he said. The portrait is already back in thesitting room. He
knew men, he prided himselfon knowing and judging them. The captain was
noSunday-school book hero, no paragon of perfection. Her housekeeping and that
portrait belong inthe same age.
There were timeswhen its corpselike, waxen stare
had affected her nerves. Brewster seems to havehad no near relatives.
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