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Tarkington, Booth, 1869-1946

"The Turmoil, a novel"


The loan goes!"
The directors came forth, flushed and murmurous, and Gurney hastened
in. His guess was correct: Sheridan had been thumping the desk with
his right hand. The physician scolded wearily, making good the fresh
damage as best he might; and then he said what he had to say on the
subject of Roscoe and Sibyl, his opinion meeting, as he expected,
a warmly hostile reception. But the result of this conversation was
that by telephonic command Roscoe awaited his father, an hour later,
in the library at the New House.
"Gurney says your wife's able to travel," Sheridan said brusquely, as
he came in.
"Yes." Roscoe occupied a deep chair and sat in the dejected attitude
which had become his habit. "Yes, she is."
"Edith had to leave town, and so Sibyl thinks she'll have to, too!"
"Oh, I wouldn't put it that way," Roscoe protested, drearily.
"No, I hear YOU wouldn't!" There was a bitter gibe in the father's
voice, and he added: "It's a good thing she's goin' abroad--if she'll
stay there. I shouldn't think any of us want her here any more--you
least of all!"
"It's no use your talking that way," said Roscoe. "You won't do any
good.


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