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Tarkington, Booth, 1869-1946

"The Turmoil, a novel"

From where I was I couldn't see the carriages leaving--at
least I didn't notice them. So when I got back, just now, you were
the only one here. I didn't know the other people in the carriage
I came in, and of course they didn't think to wait for me. That's
why--"
"Yes," said Bibbs, "I--" And that seemed all he had to say just then.
Mary looked out through the dusty window. "I think we'd better be
going home, if you please," she said.
"Yes," Bibbs agreed, not moving. "It will be dark before we get
there."
She gave him a quick little glance. "I think you must be very tired,
Mr. Sheridan; and I know you have reason to be," she said, gently.
"If you'll let me, I'll--" And without explaining her purpose she
opened the door on her side of the coupe and leaned out.
Bibbs started in blank perplexity, not knowing what she meant to do.
"Driver!" she called, in her clear voice, loudly. "Driver! We'd
like to start, please! Driver! Stop at the house just north of Mr.
Sheridan's, please." The wheels began to move, and she leaned back
beside Bibbs once more. "I noticed that he was asleep when we got
in," she said. "I suppose they have a great deal of night work.


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