Ive lived in a rentedhouse all my life, and now Id
like to own my own home, he endedplaintively.
All missionaries fromthe Americas were inveterate
beggars, then as now, Bishop Ferrand.
Lucy had suffered fora few hours, a few weeks at
most. It issuperb, your Eminence, but I fear I have lost my palate
forvintages.
He took off his hat and opened the lockedroom.
Anyintelligence in matters of art, for example? Those marks there in the cement were
made byGayhearts daughter Lucy, when she was a little girl. Harriet Arkwright hadher
good points; she was not crude, she had some experience of theworld. But your Grace,
why do you neglect this Burgundy? It is a walk Gordon often takes on a
Sundayafternoon.
Thefirst Gordon bank in Haverford was a wooden
building.
It is impossible to go farin any direction without
crossing them. That would be his wife, calling up to know what had become of
him.
Nick had beenone of the gay young fellows who used
to play about with LucyGayheart. Gayhearttwo or three evenings every
week.
Inthe company walking toward the town, one man
withdrew from theslow-moving crowd.
Gayhearts funeral, how the sense of guilt he used
to carry hadgradually grown paler.
He took off his hat and opened the lockedroom. The
missionary smiled as he took up his untouched glass. By the way, come over here with
mea minute.
She hadruined all that for a caprice, a piece of
mawkish sentimentality.
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He is not a man haunted by remorse; all that he
went through withlong ago.
That country will drink up his youth andstrength as
it does the rain. Harry, with some amusement, watched his cashiers mournful back
godown the street. Up and down these stony chasms the travellerand his mules clamber
as best they can. He had grownto like the old mans shop better than any place in
town. There was, of course, the darkwhisper that it might have been suicide.
Indignation,amazement, authority, as if she wouldnt allow him to do anythingso
shameful.
Almostevery timepiece in Haverford was indebted to
him for someattention. There is just one thing I want you to see to. Butnothing ever
comes from over there but trouble and appeals formoney. But he was cold; a
littlechilled and uncomfortable in his mind, too. Harry and hiscashier, Milton
Chase, met at the bank by appointment, to go for awalk.
He had grownto like the old mans shop better than
any place in town.
He shut the door behind himand asked her if she
knew what had happened at the river. But he was cold; a littlechilled and
uncomfortable in his mind, too.
He had just buried the last close personal friend
he had in theworld.
It has been allowed to drift for nearlythree
hundred years and is not yet dead.
That country will drink up his youth andstrength as
it does the rain.