T. Tembarom by Frances Hodgson Burnett
page 46 of 693 (06%)
page 46 of 693 (06%)
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her for a wedding-present. An' it cost two hundred and fifty."
"Well, I'm a pretty big fool myself," said Tembarom, "but I should have known better than that." When he opened the door to go, Mrs. Munsberg called after him: "When you get through, you come back here and tell us what you done. I'll give you a cup of hot coffee." He returned to Mrs. Bowse's boarding-house so late that night that even Steinberger and Bowles had ended their day. The gas in the hall was turned down to a glimmering point, and the house was silent for the night. Even a cat who stole to him and rubbed herself against his leg miauwed in a sort of abortive whisper, opening her mouth wide, but emitting no sound. When he went cautiously up the staircase he carried his damp overcoat with him, and hung it in company with the tartan muffler close to the heater in the upper hall. Then he laid on his bedside table a package of papers and photographs. After he had undressed, he dropped heavily into bed, exhausted, but elate. "I'm dog-tired," he said, "but I guess I've got it going." And almost before the last word had uttered itself he fell into the deep sleep of worn-out youth. |
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