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Deland, Margaret Wade Campbell, 1857-1945

"The Awakening of Helena Richie"

Lavendar, who stepped back into the library. Mr. Wright
had put on his hat, and was chewing orange-skin violently. "It ain't
any use trying to arrange anything with--So I'll try another tack." He
came close to Dr. Lavendar, plucking at the old minister's black
sleeve, his eyes snapping and his jaws working fast; he spoke in a
delighted whisper. "But, Lavendar--"
"Yes."
"He wouldn't take a cigar."
"Samuel never smokes," Dr. Lavendar said shortly.
"And he wouldn't take a drink of whiskey."
"He's a very temperate man."
"Lavendar--"
"Yes?"
"Lavendar--_it was efficacious!_"


CHAPTER XVI

"The play is my life--next to you," Sam Wright's Sam was saying to
his father's tenant. He had left The Top before the two visitors
arrived, and as Dr. Lavendar had foreseen, had gone straight to the
Stuffed Animal House....
Helena was in a low chair, with David nestling sleepily in her arms;
Sam, looking up at her like a young St. John, half sat, half knelt, on
the step at her feet. The day had been hot, and evening had brought no
coolness; under the sentinel locusts on either side of the porch steps
the night was velvet black; but out over the garden there were stars.
A faint stirring of the air tilted the open bowls of the evening-
primroses, spilling a heavy sweetness into the shadows. The house
behind them was dark, for it was too hot for lamps.


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