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Ferber, Edna, 1885-1968

"Dawn O'Hara, the Girl Who Laughed"

He just
sent them balls wherever he thought they'd look pretty.
I bet if he'd held up his thumb and finger an' said,
`jump through this!' them balls would of jumped."
Von Gerhard took a couple of quick steps in Blackie's
direction. His eyes were blue steel.
"Is this then necessary?" he asked. "All this leads
to what? Has not Mrs. Orme suffered enough, that she
should undergo this idle chatter? It is sufficient that
she knows this--this man is here. It is a time for
action, not for words."
"Action's comin' later, Doc," drawled Blackie,
looking impish. "Monologuin' ain't my specialty. I
gener'ly let the other gink talk. You never can learn
nothin' by talkin'. But I got somethin' t' say t' Dawn
here. Now, in case you're bored the least bit, w'y don't
hesitate one minnit t'--"
"Na, you are quite right, and I was hasty," said Von
Gerhard, and his eyes, with the kindly gleam in them,
smiled down upon the little man. "It is only that both
you and I are over-anxious to be of assistance to this
unhappy lady. Well, we shall see. You talked with this
man at the Press Club?"
"He talked. I listened."
"That would be Peter's way," I said, bitterly. How
he used to love to hold forth, and how I grew to long
for blessed silence--for fewer words, and
more of that reserve which means strength!"
"All this time," continued Blackie, "I didn't know
his name.


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