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The Man Who Kept His Money in a Box by Anthony Trollope
page 15 of 42 (35%)
towards Bellaggio.

These steamers which run up and down the lake of Como and the Lago
Maggiore, put out their passengers at the towns on the banks of the
water by means of small rowing-boats, and the persons who are about to
disembark generally have their own articles ready to their hands when
their turn comes for leaving the steamer. As we came near to
Bellaggio, I looked up my own portmanteau, and, pointing to the
beautiful wood-covered hill that stands at the fork of the waters,
told my friend Greene that he was near his destination. "I am very
glad to hear it," said he, complacently, but he did not at the moment
busy himself about the boxes. Then the small boat ran up alongside
the steamer, and the passengers for Como and Milan crowded up the
side.

"We have to go in that boat," I said to Greene.

"Nonsense!" he exclaimed.

"Oh, but we have."

"What! put our boxes into that boat," said Mrs. Greene. "Oh dear!
Here, boatman! there are seven of these boxes, all in white like
this," and she pointed to the one that had the hole in the canvas.
"Make haste. And there are two bags, and my dressing case, and Mr.
Greene's portmanteau. Mr. Greene, where is your portmanteau?"

The boatman whom she addressed, no doubt did not understand a word of
English, but nevertheless he knew what she meant, and, being well
accustomed to the work, got all the luggage together in an incredibly
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