I could have had some of old man Thorpe's money a couple of weeks ago if I'd been mean enough to take it, and I'm not mean enough to take it now--from you.

I want to talk to you about Braden Thorpe." For a moment or two Anne looked into his frowning eyes, and then she drew back into the corner of the couch, a queer shudder running through her body.
"About Braden ?" she asked, striving to make her voice sound firm and unstrained.
"Where is he?
Staying here in the house ?" "Of course not.

I don't know where he is.

He has not been near me since--since the day before--" She spoke rapidly, jerkily, and did not deem it necessary to complete the sentence.
George had the delicacy to hesitate.

He even weighed, in that brief instant, the advisability of saying what he had come to say to her.