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The Abate during this discourse preserved a sullen silence; his eyes were bent to the ground, and his aspect was thoughful and solemn. When madame ceased to speak, a pause of profound silence ensued, and she sat in anxious expectation. She endeavoured to anticipate in his countenance the answer preparing, but she derived no comfort from thence. At length raising his head, and awakening from his deep reverie, he told her that her request required deliberation, and that the protection she solicited for Julia, might involve him in serious consequences, since, from a character so determined as the marquis's, much violence might reasonably be expected. 'Should his daughter be refused him,' concluded the Abate, 'he may even dare to violate the sanctuary.',Then, as suddenly as the hope had come, it fled. Possibly Mr. Whitney had not come back! Feather-in-the-Wind alone would be no use! He must get out himself!,One day, her mother having baked some cakes, said to her, "Go and see how your grandmother is getting on, for I have been told she is ill; take her a cake and this little jar of butter." Whereupon Little Red Riding-Hood started off without delay towards the village in which her grandmother lived. On her way she had to pass through a wood, and there she met that sly old fellow, Mr Wolf, who felt that he should very much like to eat her up on the spot, but was afraid to do so, as there were woodcutters at hand in the forest. He asked her which way she was going, and the poor child, not knowing how dangerous it is to stop and listen to a wolf, answered, "I am going to see my grandmother, and am taking a cake and a little jar of butter, which my mother has sent her.",Not another thing was to be found in that garden—not a decent sugar pea nor a carrot even; just some stupid mignonette and violets and other flowers that smelled sweet—as if they were any good! No, truly, Aunt Grenertsen’s garden was not very pleasant.,They went into the house and the next day Mr. Hazard was whirling northward, gazing out of the car window and hoping that some good chance would bring his boy back to him. As it was he felt lost and quite alone.,Birds of rare plume,He had not stolen apples, he really had not; but he had been taken to the police station and his name, John Blossom, was written on the police records. Though he had not stolen apples, he had known very well that Mr. Lind and his wife would be angry if boys went on board and helped themselves to apples, even if Nils had said they might.,“I don’t know. Come on and let’s see if it has gone around the bend. At that we’ll never be able to catch up with it unless it’s grounded somewheres.”,Bob grabbed it and, before it could go out, nursed the flicker in his cupped hands, not realizing that it was burning his fingers cruelly. Carefully, yet swiftly, he carried the flame to the little pile of threads. As these caught, his heart grew light with thankfulness.,There lay the steamer already. They rowed their best, but saw that a big boat carrying passengers ashore had already started. Pshaw! Too bad they had come so late! However, Johnny Blossom rowed swiftly and carefully alongside the steamer.,No beauty, no talent, has power above,“This is delightful weather,” said Johnny Blossom, although just then another wild gust of wind made Jeremias’s little house shake violently..