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It was not of course the sort of life he had pictured. That had been rather a vague idea of khaki-clad figures, perched with their instruments on perilous peaks and over yawning chasms; and a general idea of romance had run through his dreams. To be put into an office to do sums was little better than going to school. That his drawing board faced a window below which the job spread out, was a help, for while his mind mechanically did the figuring that was necessary, he could imagine himself out on the work mingling with the crowd.,

These words struck sudden joy upon the heart of Madame de Menon, but she instantly recollected, that ere this time Julia had quitted the abbey, and thus the very precaution which was meant to ensure her safety, had probably precipitated her into the hand of her enemy. This thought changed her joy to anguish; and she was hurrying from the apartment in a sort of wild hope, that Julia might not yet be gone, when the stern voice of the Abate arrested her. 'Is it thus,' cried he, 'that you receive the knowledge of our generous resolution to protect your friend? Does such condescending kindness merit no thanks—demand no gratitude?' Madame returned in an agony of fear, lest one moment of delay might prove fatal to Julia, if haply she had not yet quitted the monastery. She was conscious of her deficiency in apparent gratitude, and of the strange appearance of her abrupt departure from the Abate, for which it was impossible to apologize, without betraying the secret, which would kindle all his resentment. Yet some atonement his present anger demanded, and these circumstances caused her a very painful embarrassment. She formed a hasty excuse; and expressing her sense of his goodness, again attempted to retire, when the Abate frowning in deep resentment, his features inflamed with pride, arose from his seat. 'Stay,' said he; 'whence this impatience to fly from the presence of a benefactor?—If my generosity fails to excite gratitude, my resentment shall not fail to inspire awe.—Since the lady Julia is insensible of my condescension, she is unworthy of my protection, and I will resign her to the tyrant who demands her.',

“It will have to be awfully thick, won’t it, to be able to hold the water?”,

Stumbling, panting, he ran around the corner of the hut, urged by the knowledge that he was afire. Luckily the river nearly touched the back wall of the hut that had been his prison. A few steps and he fell face downward in the shallows.

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Mr. Whitney laughed. “The greatest drawback was a ridiculous thing. A long time ago a treaty was made with Mexico which prohibited the storing of flood water on the Rio Grande and it’s the flood water that is used in modern irrigation.”,

Really it was a delightful old wharf. Near the shore it was built on rocks and stones, but farther out there were thick piles on which the great heavy boards were laid. There was no railing, and at the extreme end a single board to which boats could be fastened projected far out over the water. The boards shone white and hot in the sun. The piles down in the water were covered with tiny shells, seaweed, and greenish slime.,

The family had lived in this solitude for a year, when a letter arrived for the merchant, telling him that a vessel, on which there was merchandise belonging to him, had arrived safely in port. The two elder girls were nearly out of their minds with joy when they heard this good news, for now they hoped that they should be able to leave the country. They begged their father, ere he departed, to bring them back dresses and capes, head-dresses, and all sorts of odds and ends of fancy attire. Beauty asked for nothing; for, as she thought to herself, all the money that the merchandise would bring in, would not be sufficient to pay for everything that her sisters wished for. "Is there nothing you wish me to buy for you?" her father said to her. "As you are so kind as to think of me," she replied, "I pray you to bring me a rose, for we have not one here." Now Beauty did not really care about the rose, but she had no wish to seem, by her example, to reprove her sisters, who would have said that she did not ask for anything, in order to make herself appear more considerate than they were.,

Johnny Blossom shouted: “Olaf! Herman!” No answer, only the sea’s pounding. A big wave dashed over his legs, and the pear rocked and plunged frightfully.