The Definite Object - A Romance of New York by Jeffery Farnol
page 65 of 497 (13%)
page 65 of 497 (13%)
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Spike out into the hallway, was gone.
But Mrs. Trapes stood awhile to stare after him, lost in speculation. "A toothbrush!" said she. "My! My!" Then she turned to stare down at the pile of bills. "Now I wonder," said she, right hand caressing left elbow-point, "I jest wonder who he's been a-choking of to get all that money? But I like his eyes! And his smile! And he looks a man--and honest! Well, well!" CHAPTER VI HOW SPIKE INITIATED MR. RAVENSLEE INTO THE GENTLE ART OF SHOPPING "Gee!" exclaimed Spike, as they descended the many stairs, "she sure gave you the frosty-face, Geoff, but it didn't seem to joggle you any!" "No, it didn't joggle me, Spike, because you see--I like her." "Like Mrs. Trapes? You 'n' Hermy are about the only ones then; most every one in Mulligan's hates her an' gets scared stiff when she cuts loose! But say, you do keep on rubbing it in, I mean about--about thieving!" "Probably it's your conscience, Spike." |
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