The Turmoil, a novel by Booth Tarkington
page 73 of 348 (20%)
page 73 of 348 (20%)
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twenty minutes later.
Jim Sheridan, skirting the edges of the town with Mary Vertrees beside him, in his own swift machine, encountered the invalid upon the highroad. The two cars were going in opposite directions, and the occupants of Jim's had only a swaying glimpse of Bibbs sitting alone on the back seat--his white face startlingly white against cap and collar of black fur--but he flashed into recognition as Mary bowed to him. Jim waved his left hand carelessly. "It's Bibbs, taking his constitutional," he explained. "Yes, I know," said Mary. "I bowed to him, too, though I've never met him. In fact, I've only seen him once--no, twice. I hope he won't think I'm very bold, bowing to him." "I doubt if he noticed it," said honest Jim. "Oh, no!" she cried. "What's the trouble?" "I'm almost sure people notice it when I bow to them." "Oh, I see!" said Jim. "Of course they would ordinarily, but Bibbs is funny." "Is he? How?" she asked. "He strikes me as anything but funny." |
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