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Dead Men Tell No Tales by E. W. (Ernest William) Hornung
page 66 of 214 (30%)
Mr. Cole."

"My dear sir, that wasn't my meaning at all. I'n only sorry I
shall not see something of you on your own heath. I can't thank
you enough for your kind suggestion. When do you suppose the
Braithwaites could do with me?"

His charming smile rebuked my impatience.

"We must first see whether they can do with you at all," said he.
"I sincerely hope they can; but this is their time of year for
tourists, though perhaps a little late. I'll tell you what I'll do.
As a matter of fact, I'm going down there to-morrow, and I've got
to telegraph to my place in any case to tell them when to meet me.
I'll send the telegram first thing, and I'll make them send one back
to say whether there's room in the cottage or not."

I thanked him warmly, but asked if the cottage was close to Kirby
Hall, and whether this would not be giving a deal of trouble at the
other end; whereupon he mischievously misunderstood me a second
time, saying the cottage and the hall were not even in sight of each
other, and I really had no intrusion to fear, as he was a lonely
bachelor like myself, and would only be up there four or five days
at the most. So I made my appreciation of his society plainer than
ever to him; for indeed I had found a more refreshing pleasure in
it already than I had hoped to derive from mortal man again; and we
parted, at three o'clock in the morning, like old fast friends.

"Only don't expect too much, my dear Mr. Cole," were his last words
to me. "My own place is as ancient and as tumble-down as most ruins
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