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The Shoulders of Atlas

Chapter 9 No.9

Word Count: 2381    |    Released on: 06/12/2017

d arsenic in a sufficiently large quantity to cause death, the utter absence of motive was in the favor of the accused, and then the suspicion that the poison might have been self-a

rophecy concerning the falling off of the hotel guests was destined to fail. The old hostelry was crowded. Newspaper men and women from all parts of the country flocked there, and also many not connected with the press, who were morbidly curious and revelled in the sickly excitement of thinking they might be living in the house of a poisoner. Lucinda Hart sent in her resig

ience, and heard Lucy Ayres, who had a beautiful contralto, sing in her place. Lucy sang well, and looked very pretty in her lace blouse and white hat, but she was so pale that people commented on it. Sylvia, who showed a fairly antagon

you?" s

shouldn't I be?"

r head very high. There was a stiff, jetted ornament on her new bonnet, and it stood up like a crest. She shot a su

and that angry glance was like honey to Lucinda. "You were a fool to give up your place in the choir," said Syl

da then. She did not speak complainingly or piteously. Th

ning their necks, and all them strangers. You've got a

ere was an echo in her mono

"Some of them write for the

of heads, they're all eyes and all ears. Sometimes I think they ain't nothing except eyes and ears and tongue. But there's a lot

have your

t Abby Smith to c

't good

ishes. She generally forgets to pass the vegetables till the meat is all et up, and they're lucky if they get any butter; but I can't h

going throng in their Sunday best, but they seemed isolated, although closely watched. Presen

iss Hart!" he sai

o him, but to Sylvia. "He is staying at the hotel. He wri

how it feels to be suspected of a crime when one is innocent, and it will be the leading feature in next Sunday's paper. She is to have her pictur

d Lucinda, wi

amazement. "Why, Lu

n't take no, I give 'em y

ffably. He was really very much of a gentleman. He touched his hat

sted again, by another gentleman. This time he was older and stouter,

e same tone which she had used previously. "He wants me to write a piec

te it, aren't you, Miss H

ed Lucinda,

picious. He pressed his inquiry. "Can you l

a. Her "yes" had t

ength with regard to his article, and L

leave Lucinda, when a woman appeared. She was young, but sh

a. "She came yesterday. She wants me to write a pi

unate occurrence at Miss Ha

hat. She wants me to write a piece upon how ready women a

to write it?" said

said

d so will Mr. Evans be when he hears the news. Now I must ask you to excuse me if

silk petticoat under a tailored skirt, when Sylvi

N

ou sai

I found out they wouldn't take it, so then I began to sa

't mean to w

begin writing for the pa

t will t

't get th

sue you, o

fter what I've been through late

every one of them y

hing they'll let me tell them. I

ously. "Is it true that Albio

m Jones has taken him. I reckon I sha'n't have m

u going to get

h. I own the hotel, and I shall keep more hens and raise more garden truck, and let Hann

Quimby has jilted Ha

hasn't been ne

it a

her people's hands, instead of their own, and make the best of it. Hannah has got a good appetite. It ain't going to kill her. She can go

ly. "Folks can't really believe

" said Lucinda. "I never felt I

go and poison a good, ste

ollar a day,"

ow sh

nd I'll own I found things in her room, but I don't care what folks do to their outsides as long as

place in the high-school; and teac

asn't

t wa

ny harm, now she's dead and gone, and I don't know as it was any

ou don't mean Mr.

a long time. Hannah and me both have known, but we never o

d you f

ears open. How does an

e thought of her," said Sylvia, and

he'll take a shine to that g

ht of such a thing," declared Sylvi

own affairs since the girl came to know anything about that. I only thought of their being i

She didn't look fit to stand up there and sing. I should think her moth

Lucinda. "She sings enoug

sic," admitted Sylvia. "I can't t

hadn't been so mad at the way I've been treated I'd kept on. Now they can get on without me. Lucy Ayres does look miserable

mind, Lucinda. Henry and I think just the same of you as we've always tho

to bear any load that I 'ain't heaped on my own shoulders, and the Lord

were thrown back, her head was very erect, the jetted ornament on her bonnet shone like a warrior's crest. She stepped eve

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