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The Island Pharisees by John Galsworthy
page 26 of 294 (08%)

One afternoon in May he received this letter couched in French:


3, BLANK ROW

WESTMINSTER.

MY DEAR SIR,

Excuse me for recalling to your memory the offer of assistance you so
kindly made me during the journey from Dover to London, in which I was
so fortunate as to travel with a man like you. Having beaten the whole
town, ignorant of what wood to make arrows, nearly at the end of my
resources, my spirit profoundly discouraged, I venture to avail myself
of your permission, knowing your good heart. Since I saw you I have run
through all the misfortunes of the calendar, and cannot tell what door
is left at which I have not knocked. I presented myself at the business
firm with whose name you supplied me, but being unfortunately in rags,
they refused to give me your address. Is this not very much in the
English character? They told me to write, and said they would forward
the letter. I put all my hopes in you.

Believe me, my dear sir,

(whatever you may decide)

Your devoted

LOUIS FERRAND.
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