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"Nicholas!" cries his mother, faintly: "this is too much!",“Train? Is she going away?” The small girl’s face grew sorrowful.,"Oh, do ask him, David," she urged, taking in the attractive athletic figure with its wholesome self-reliant air. "He looks awfully nice.","I studied with Bruce Haydon last summer," she said. "He got me in here.","But you don't say you were paid to do so," answered Greyquill.,"All right; that's settled. But listen, now, every one of you. He's gotta go of his own accord. We're not goin' to be disobedient in any way. Fer a time we'll eat out'a his hand. Now wait—" as a groan of protest went up—"let me finish afore you get the high-jumps, you fellers. At the end of two er three weeks somethin' is goin' to happen to Mr. Johnston. I'm not goin' to say what that somethin' is right now, but you'll all know soon enough. And if after it happens he's got nerve enough to come back here I miss my guess, that's all.",The sehoolhouse stood with a wide sloping green before it and a tangle of second growth forest behind it. It was not an old building, but had the appearance of senile old age. Its coat of cheap terra-cotta paint had cracked into many wrinkles; its windows looked dully out like the lustreless eyes of an old, old man. The ante-room roof had been blown off by a winter's gale and replaced inaccurately, so that it set awry, jaunty and defiant, challenging the world. Its door hung on one hinge, leaning sleepily against a knife-scarred wall. A rail fence ran about the yard which was filled to choking with a rank growth of smart-weed. In one corner of the yard was a well with a faded blue pump holding the faded red arm of a handle toward the skies, as though evoking high heaven to bear witness that it was never intended to lead such a lonely and useless existence.,“How old are you?” broke in the Admiral.,“Here, you poor darling, take mine! And don’t be afraid—you’ll find your mother before long.” Edith’s words were brave, but her own eyes were moist.,"Oh, yes, you will; when Mr. Alymer is dead.","It is I,—Mona Scully," she calls aloud, when she is within a hundred yards of the hiding-place. "Tim Ryan, come here: I want you.","There you are, Mrs. Molly," he said briskly as he handed me this book. "Get weighed and measured and sized-up generally in the morning, and follow all the directions. Also make every record I have noted so that I can have the proper data to help you as you go along—or rather down. And if you will be faithful about it to me, or rather Alfred, I think we can be sure of buttoning that blue muslin dress without even the aid of the button-hook." His voice had the "if you can" note in it that always sets me off..