And he smilingly explained to Susette: It's my old friend, Joseph, the carter.
Susette lingered a minute after she had put down the newspapers.
At Susette's name he looked mournfully in my face as I sat down by him, murmuring that she was gone, gone, bonne fille!
Why, then, some one must have been awake when I came home, Susette!
Susette covered her face with her hands, and most of us turned away too frightened to look.
Springing from the couch, she allowed Susette to attire her in her black silk.
At this point we all looked at Susette, and little Murray squeezed her hand.
Of course it will, Susette; for they will be kind to me for my dead mother's sake.
Mr. Younge cast a significant look at the ladies and Susette, whose looks explained that they were not without foundation.
"It was the odor of the horses," Susette replied in her small voice.