But something, an interview, awkward and disagreeable for both sides, or a patronizing note of thanks, was, at the very least, certain to follow the happenings of the previous night.
I wished I had gone home when the Coltons first came to the festival.
I wished I had not promised Taylor that I would attend that festival.
I wished--I wished a great many things.

The thought of young Carver's public snubbing before his friends was my one unmixed satisfaction.

I rather imagined that he was more uncomfortable than I was or could be.
Lute crowed vaingloriously over his own good judgment in leaving for home early.
"I don't know how 'twas," he declared.

"Somethin' seemed to tell me we was in for a turrible tempest.

I was settin' talkin' with Alvin Baker and eatin' my second sasser of berries, when--" "SECOND sasser ?" interrupted Dorinda, sharply.