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The Little Lady of the Big House

Chapter 3 No.3

Word Count: 2440    |    Released on: 01/12/2017

rious directions. One, opening to a Chinese in the white apron and starched cap of a chef, emitted at the same time the low hum of a dynamo. It was this that deflected Forrest from his straight

ls, squatted a greasy little m

ong, Thompso

the answer, posit

Another door gave access to a long, low room, beam-ceilinged, with a fireplace in which an ox could have been roasted. A huge stump, resting on a bed of coals, blazed brightly.

he bantered. "--More materia

with glasses, smiled sheepishly an

hallenged me,

rnestine must still be beaut

but before he could utter the retort on his lips his hos

o look over the Shropshires. He wants about ten carloads of rams. You ought to find good s

t as we were leaving," Be

u see him. You're not invited, Bert... out o

with you anyway

. "We're on business. Besides, you can't pry

ed to see if you c

orrest paused for a perceptible moment. "I always thought

, a dance-time piano measure and burst of laughter made him peep into a white morning room, flooded with sunshine. A young girl, in rose-colored kimono and boudoir cap, was at the i

s, collapsed, laughing, in each other's arms, and the music stopped. They were gorgeous, healthy young creatures, the three of them,

tains among young things of the

ive minutes," Dic

ty. The girl at the piano, Ernestine, his sister-in-law, insisted that pearls of truth fell from his lips, that she had seen him

their babel, "Bert, the sweet inno

vacious young Venus, retorted. "Nor are we to y

to be my wife's sister, you needn't presume to put the high and mighty over on me. Don't forget--and I state the fact, disagreeable as it ma

felt the biceps of his right arm and made as if to roll up

g woman challeng

orm you, your cap is not on straight. Also, it is not a very tasteful creation at best.

tly, glanced at her comrades in s

elderly and insulting avoirdupois. What do you say, girls? Let's rush him. He's not a minute under for

a raid on the cushions of the deep window seats. Side by side, a cushion in each hand, and with proper

battle, then held u

nted, in several at fi

is head em

ime are rising now in my brain in a dazzling brightness. I shall go Berserk in a moment. But first, and I speak as an agric

"is what you've got. Sheep are the on

California before the adoption of Rugby; and the girls broke the line to let him t

from which radiated flying draperies of flimsy silk, disconnected slippers, boudoir caps, and hairpins. There were thuds from the cushions, grunts from the

y shrewdly delivered cushions, his head buzzing from the buffeting, and, in one hand

he Mother of the Gracchi, the wreckage of her kimono wrapped severely about her and held severely about her by her own waist-pressing arm. Lute, cornered behind the piano, attempted to run b

imed from safety, "that once he, that wretched semblance of a man-th

ng of the shimmering cherry-colored silk with delight as he flu

om the wall, so that there was possibility for Lute to escape around either way of it. Forrest gained his feet an

purs, Dick!

to take them o

te darted to escape, but was herde

your head be it. If the piano

indicating with her blue joyous ey

back his body and spread his rest

foot above the glossy white surface. And simultaneously Lute ducked and went under the piano on hands and knees. Her mischan

nded. "Come out and

, Sir Knight, for dear love's sa

ained, and predamned. I was nourished solely on the blood of maidens educated in Mills Seminary. My favorite chophouse has ever been a hardwood floor, a loaf of Mills Seminary maiden, and a roof of flat piano. My father, as well as an ogre, was a California horse-thief

breast?" Lute pleaded in soulful tones

e thing only, on the earth, over the

d plagiarism interrup

ready enunciated before I was so rudely interrupted, the one thing only that can balm and embalm this savage breast is the 'Maiden's Prayer.' Listen, with all your ea

s prevented the proper answer and Lute, from under the

Sir Knight!

iden!" was Ber

ou?" Forres

rrah!--I mean, e

ced with due humility. "Spare this anc

ad!" the young t

his gullet, and, while he lingeringly chokes to death over my unpalatableness and general spinefulness, do you, fair damsels, flee to the m

g things chanted. "Slay him i

by Christian young women in the year 1914 who will vote some day if ever they grow up and do not

ealistic shudders and kicks and a great jingli

as joined by Rita and Ernestine in an extemp

protesting. Also, he was guilty of a

"Forget him not. Cro

ropelled by Lute's vigorous arm, impacted soggily on his neck under the ear, he fled. The riot of pursuit echoed along the hall and di

with early foliage and blooms, and gained his wing of the house, still b

delayed." He glanced at his wrist-watch. "Only fou

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