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Straight Deal; Or, the Ancient Grudge
Charles Fernyhough. Miraculous Mysteries. Martin Edwards.
The Penguin Book of Christmas Stories. Edgar Allan Poe. Jay Rubin. The Good Immigrant. Nikesh Shukla. Being Various.
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So That Went Well Kate Moore. The Complete Short Fiction. As such it's a window more into British than American ways: author says British reticence is a big turn-off. What a British subject of would say about Page Three girls and lager louts Wister points to American "coarseness" does not bear thinking about. Best part is in the first chapter, where a correspondent tells Wister what it would take for Americans to get along with the British: have a bigger navy.
Accurate, that. Go to Amazon. Discover the best of shopping and entertainment with Amazon Prime. Prime members enjoy FREE Delivery on millions of eligible domestic and international items, in addition to exclusive access to movies, TV shows, and more. Back to top. He felt as if he were merely wearing the mask of the successful lover. He upbraided himself for letting this trivial thing qualify his delight in winning so nice a girl; it was contemptible.
He could of course look upon his successful wooing cheerfully, as a comfortable solution of life; Marion would always be a most satisfactory companion. But he had entered into the engagement with far more enthusiasm than this; he could not understand why it should so soon have faded. In the course of the morning he telephoned to Lydia and asked if she was to be at home that afternoon; finding that she was, he said that he would come in to see her, as he had something to communicate.
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But she had been so agitated by all her forebodings that great as was her relief she could not immediately turn to any other subject; so she did not heed his question; she gave him her hand and said, "Oh, I'm so troubled about Stewart, Floyd; I was sure it was about Stewart when you telephoned that you had something to tell me. He is so sincere in all that he's doing—and saying; it's all a conviction—almost a religion with him—and he—he's let go—I'm afraid he's lost his grip on other things—" Her eyes were bright with tears.
And this time—something tells me—it would be fatal; not even you could bring him back to me. And when he's embittered, he may go farther in some ways than he would really intend to go. Yet he is so sincere about the whole subject of workingmen's rights, so eager to improve their condition, that he may be on the verge of accomplishing something splendid, something worth while—and though it grieves me very much to know that he's attacking you, Floyd, I—I can't discourage him.
The question will settle itself, some day—and then he and I can forget we've ever differed. Now what do you think of me? He looked down at her with a gay smile; she rose from the low chair and came towards him holding out both hands. I've hoped you might—this long time! There's no one so fine as Marion—unless it's you! Smiling at him through her tears, she was the great peril to his happiness. He tried not to think of her, he tried to think of Marion as he answered,—.
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We wanted you—and Stewart—to hear it first. Just as I was the first to hear about you and Stewart—years ago.
More Books by Owen Wister
Stewart will be so pleased. The soft emotion in Lydia's voice, the gentle, affectionate appeal in her gray eyes were strangely alluring to Floyd; she leaned upon the back of a chair and looked up at him, and in that attitude all that was trustful, loving, and dependent in her nature seemed to shine forth; the eager, mobile face, the flexible, relaxed figure, the slender hands, all had a suggestion that awoke in Floyd a tender sympathy; she was a woman who as time went on would cling more and more caressingly about the man she loved, become more and more a cherished and essential part of his life.
Marion appeared in his thoughts as a contrast to this, a firm, erect figure, resolute, uncompromising, independent,—clear-sighted, true, and brave. In all these virtues there was not the appeal to the imagination and sympathy that Lydia could make unconsciously by leaning on a chair and having her unselfish interest in her eyes. Floyd went away challenging angrily in his heart the sentimental spirit that could so drag him from the path of loyalty. He was glad that Marion was soon to return to Avalon; reinforced by her presence, he felt he could more successfully cope with the unregenerate inclinations of his heart.
The morning after he had seen Lydia, his office boy brought him Stewart's card. I'm awfully glad, Floyd,—and I'll have to write and tell her you're not such a bad fellow really—".
And I hope you're willing to accept my congratulations and good wishes, Floyd—and to believe them sincere? You must acknowledge it was rather magnanimous," replied Stewart, "when you left me to hear of it through Lydia. I really think that I'm the one you should have told. Of course I'm not jealous of Lydia because you chose to tell her. Only I think I was entitled to hear such a thing from your own lips.
There—shake hands. With a laugh and still holding his friend's hand, he helped Stewart to get gracefully out of the room.
The next day was the first of October, and the sealed plans submitted in competition for the Rebecca Halket Hospitals were brought into Floyd's private office. The two other judges arrived,—Dr. Day after day they sat, patiently scrutinizing and weighing every detail. For more than a week Floyd was able to give almost uninterrupted attention to this task. No problems arose at New Rome to demand his special care. The daily reports from Gregg showed that the town, though idle, was orderly, and that the incessant patrolling and picketing of the union men was on the whole of a peaceable nature.
Stewart seemed to be the most active agent for the enemy, and even he was using somewhat less intemperate language than that in which he had first assailed Floyd. How much this modification was due to the quiet influence of Lydia or to the correction of the more astute union leaders, Floyd could not guess; at any rate in the newspaper reports of the speeches which Stewart was making nightly to men of various trades there was no personal attack; the economic and humanitarian aspects of the struggle were those with which the advocate dealt.
Besides putting forth these efforts, Stewart conducted a column in the Evening Telegram inviting subscriptions to a fund, under the heading, "For Families of Men Locked Out of Employment. He felt that steps to relieve this could not be taken too early, and he called on every one who sympathized with brave fighters for liberty to give even the smallest assistance. He himself headed the list of contributions to the fund with one thousand dollars.
A Straight Deal; Or, The Ancient Grudge - eBook
In comparison with this amount the other subscriptions that he was able to publish looked ludicrously—or pathetically—small. Stewart had not been successful in enlisting the interest of any of his wealthy friends in his charitable purpose. Stung by this treatment and by the coldness of his fellow members at the club, who indeed made him feel that his presence there was unwelcome, he challenged any one to meet him in public or semi-public debate on the question of the lock-out; no one heeded the challenge.
It angered Stewart to feel that because the people whom he most wished to reach perversely declined to listen, his educational work was unproductive. He had hoped that he could create at least an impression and rouse some sentiment among the persons of his acquaintance; instead of that he found that the only persons who would listen to him at all were tradespeople and artisans with whom he had no acquaintance and who were already in sympathy with his opinions.
In such circumstances he felt he was not making much headway with the propaganda. Nevertheless his support seemed valued by Tustin and the others; he was admitted to the counsels of the leaders,—or thought that he was,—and he was kept contented and zealous by the belief that he was preparing a future for himself politically.
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