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Tarkington, Booth, 1869-1946

"The Turmoil, a novel"

"Starting any
stronger than you did with Edith?" she inquired.
"Oh, keep the peace!" he said, crossly. "That's off, of course."
"You haven't been making her see it this evening--precisely," said
Sibyl, looking at him steadily. "You've talked to her for--"
"For Heaven's sake," he begged, "keep the peace!"
"Well, what have you just been doing?"
"SH!" he said. "Listen to your father-in-law."
Sheridan was booming and braying louder than ever, the orchestra
having begun to play "The Rosary," to his vast content.
"I COUNT THEM OVER, LA-LA-TUM-TEE-DUM," he roared, beating the
measures with his fork. "EACH HOUR A PEARL, EACH PEARL TEE-DUM-
TUM-DUM--What's the matter with all you folks? Why'n't you SING?
Miss Vertrees, I bet a thousand dollars YOU sing! Why'n't--"
"Mr. Sheridan," she said, turning cheerfully from the ardent Jim,
"you don't know what you interrupted! Your son isn't used to my
rough ways, and my soldier's wooing frightens him, but I think he
was about to say something important."
"I'll say something important to him if he doesn't!" the father
threatened, more delighted with her than ever. "By gosh! if I was
his age--or a widower right NOW--"
"Oh, wait!" cried Mary.


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