Summary

Margaret Cameron The Golden Rule Dollivers (collection… (1913)

Marjorie laughed. "Oh, well, a street-car isn't so bad if it has open sides," she defended. "At least, it's better than the Subway on a day like this."
"But who wants to run on rails, anyhow?" growled Dolliver, with enjoyment. "You're a poor-spirited, submissive sort of person, after all, Marjorie, content to poke along always on the same track, over a route somebody else has selected for you."
Source: Wikisource

Margaret Cameron The Golden Rule Dollivers (collection… (1913)

Promptly at the appointed hour he met Marjorie at their rendezvous, and they strolled to the corner, where they stood in the sun awaiting a Broadway car, and watching the ceaseless procession of equipages, while she told him of her morning's shopping. Presently there was a pause. Then said she, sighing:
"Why do we always have to wait and wait for a street-car, if we happen to want one, when at home we can hardly hear ourselves think for the clatter of their continual passing?"
"Why in thunder don't we own a car?"
Source: Wikisource

Margaret Cameron The Golden Rule Dollivers (collection… (1913)

Perhaps this conversation, enkindling as it was, had almost as much to do with what happened later as had the matter of the draught-gear, already mentioned, toward which, when they had found seats in the car, Marjorie unconsciously turned the talk.
"By the way," she said, "who's my rival?"
"Rival?"
"Who wants you to-morrow?"
"Well—there is one little matter of business," he admitted.
"Oh," she murmured, dryly. "You surprise me."
"Really, dear, it won't take long," apologetically "but I must see one man in the morning."
"What man?"
"Galen Corbin."
Source: Wikisource

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