As Mr. Bowers was familiar with many of these counts in the feminine
American indictment of life generally, he was not perhaps greatly moved.
But in the last sentence he thought he saw an opening to return to his
main object, and, looking up cautiously, said:--
"And mebbe write po'try now and then?" To his great discomfiture, the
only effect of this suggestion was to check his companion's speech for
some moments and apparently throw her back into her former abstraction.
Yet, after a long pause, as they were turning into the lane, she said,
as if continuing the subject:--
"I only hope that, whatever my daughters may do, they won't marry
young."
The yawning breaches in the Delatour gates and fences presently came
in view. They were supposed to be reinforced by half a dozen dogs,
who, however, did their duty with what would seem to be the prevailing
inefficiency, retiring after a single perfunctory yelp to shameless
stretching, scratching, and slumber. Their places were taken on the
veranda by two negro servants, two girls respectively of eight and
eleven, and a boy of fourteen, who remained silently staring.
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