The Rise of Roscoe Paine by Joseph Crosby Lincoln
page 29 of 560 (05%)
page 29 of 560 (05%)
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and--"
"You do, too! Ros, do YOU intend to get down on your knees to them Coltons?" I laughed and went on without replying. I left the store and strolled across the road to the bank, intending to make a short call on George Taylor, the cashier, my most intimate acquaintance and the one person in Denboro who came nearest to being my friend. But George was busy in the directors' room, and, after waiting a few moments in conversation with Henry Small, the bookkeeper, I gave it up and walked home, across the fields this time; I had no desire to meet more automobilists. Dorinda had finished dusting the dining room and was busy upstairs. I could hear the swish-swish of her broom overhead. I opened the door leading to Mother's bedroom and entered, closing the door behind me. The curtains were drawn, as they always were on sunny days, and the room was in deep shadow. Mother had been asleep, I think, but she heard my step and recognized it. "Is that you, Boy?" she asked. If I had been fifty, instead of thirty-one, Mother would have called me "Boy" just the same. "Yes, Mother," I said. "Where have you been? For a walk? It is a beautiful morning, isn't it." |
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