human
Your motive is undoubtedly a good one, Mrs. Oliver conceded. She spoke to Nan, busy near her, and she gazed critically about the shabby old walls, now rapidly assuming a quite different aspect as the great ropes of laurel leaves swung into place under the direction of Sam Burnett. That young man now had Edson Fernald and Charles Wetmore--Carolyn's husband--to assist him, and he was making the most of his opportunity to order about two gentlemen who had shown considerable reluctance to remove their coats, but who were now--to his satisfaction--perspiring so freely that they had some time since reached the point of casting aside still other articles of apparel.
gpt
But I shall be much surprised, Mrs. Oliver continued,
human
It's Christmas, replied Nan. Her cheeks were the colour of the holly berries in the great wreaths she was arranging to place on either side of the wall behind the pulpit.
gpt
They can't quarrel at Christmas--not with Billy Sewall preaching peace on earth, good will to men, to them. --Jessica, please hand me that wire--and come and hold this wreath a minute, will you?
human
Nobody expects Marian to be on any side but the other one,
gpt
What's that about Sewall? Oliver inquired.
human
I hadn't heard of that. You don't mean to say Sewell's coming up for this service?
gpt
Of course he is. Margaret telephoned him this morning, and he said he'd never had a Christmas present equal to this one. He said it interested him a lot more than his morning service in town, and he'd be up, loaded. Isn't that fine of Billy?
human
That puts a different light on it.