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Tarkington, Booth, 1869-1946

"The Turmoil, a novel"


She also looked startled and confused, but not more startled and
confused than Bibbs. In "Edith's" poem he had declared his intention
of hiding his heart "among the stars"; and in his boyhood one day he
had successfully hidden his body in the coal-pile. He had been no
comrade of other boys or of girls, and his acquaintances of a recent
period were only a few fellow-invalids and the nurses at the Hood
Sanitarium. All his life Bibbs had kept himself to himself--he was
but a shy onlooker in the world. Nevertheless, the startled gaze he
bent upon the unexpected lady before him had causes other than his
shyness and her unexpectedness. For Mary Vertrees had been a shining
figure in the little world of late given to the view of this humble
and elusive outsider, and spectators sometimes find their hearts
beating faster than those of the actors in the spectacle. Thus with
Bibbs now. He started and stared; he lifted his hat with incredible
awkwardness, his fingers fumbling at his forehead before they found
the brim.
"Mr. Sheridan," said Mary, "I'm afraid you'll have to take me home
with you. I--" She stopped, not lacking a momentary awkwardness
of her own.


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