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Jorgenson reflected sourly that the governors and the rulers of the universe were whoever happened to be within hearing of the Grand Panjandrum. They were not imposing. They were scared. Everybody is always scared under an absolute ruler, but the Grand Panjandrum was worse than that. He couldn't make a mistake. Whatever he said had to be true, because he said it, and sometimes it had drastic results. But past Grand Panjandrums had spoken highly of the trading post. Jorgenson shouldn't have much to worry about. He waited. He thought of Ganti. He scowled.
As he sat there he was staring as hard as he could up beyond the little bluff back of the scanty beach. Glimpses of the distant hillside where the enemy lay in ambush could be caught; and since those in hiding were doubtless able to see as well on their part, the boy wondered whether their feeling of security might not turn out to be short-lived.
This evening he stood in the veranda of his bungalow waiting for Trixie to come home. Some regimental complication had called him away unexpectedly after luncheon, and he had forgotten to inquire before he started as to her plans for the afternoon. Therefore he had hurried back, intending to suggest a ride, but the bearer informed him she had already gone out with "Grivsahib." They had driven away in the sahib's dog-cart half an hour ago. Coventry, in his annoyance, imagined that the man's eyes held a veiled insolence, and the little rasp of irritation that had worried him of late increased now to definite displeasure with his wife. He went off to play racquets violently; then, calm and more controlled, he had returned, rather late, only to find that Trixie had not yet come back. His anger rose again, but when he had changed for dinner fear also beset him lest some harm had come to her, and it urged him out to the veranda.
"It's your turn now," said Markham good-temperedly; "tell him the most hair-raising tale you can think of, and give me a rest. As a policeman you ought to know plenty."
“No. I wish I had. I think his Brahms wonderfully fine.”
Amos was now glad that Jack had been so positive about making all their arrangements beforehand. The dispatch boat would be in somewhat of a hurry, as the commander doubtless had a regular schedule to be carried out; and any unexpected delay was apt to disarrange this.
“Ah, but there lies the difficulty,” said Eumetis, “She does not love him. I called her his sweetheart wrongly, for it is purely a one-sided affair, and I fear that she will never return. Cimon idolizes her, and would have made her his wife ere this, but she refused. Can you think of anything more tragic than unrequited love?”
of failure; indeed, the American aviator was entreated to hasten back to his field of duty unless he wanted to arrive too late and find everything carried in a glorious rush.详情 ➢
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