Soldiers of Fortune by Richard Harding Davis
page 37 of 292 (12%)
page 37 of 292 (12%)
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smile.
``I wanted to see,'' he explained, catching the look of listless curiosity in MacWilliams's eye, ``whether there was anything hotter than my blood. It's racing around like boiling water in a pot.'' ``Listen,'' said Langham, holding up his hand. ``There goes the call for prayers in the convent, and now it's too late to go to town. I am glad, rather. I'm too tired to keep awake, and besides, they don't know how to amuse themselves in a civilized way--at least not in my way. I wish I could just drop in at home about now; don't you, MacWilliams? Just about this time up in God's country all the people are at the theatre, or they've just finished dinner and are sitting around sipping cool green mint, trickling through little lumps of ice. What I'd like--'' he stopped and shut one eye and gazed, with his head on one side, at the unimaginative MacWilliams--``what I'd like to do now,'' he continued, thoughtfully, ``would be to sit in the front row at a comic opera, ON THE AISLE. The prima donna must be very, very beautiful, and sing most of her songs at me, and there must be three comedians, all good, and a chorus entirely composed of girls. I never could see why they have men in the chorus, anyway. No one ever looks at them. Now that's where I'd like to be. What would you like, MacWilliams?'' MacWilliams was a type with which Clay was intimately familiar, but to the college-bred Langham he was a revelation and a joy. He came from some little town in the West, and had learned what he knew of engineering at the transit's mouth, after he had first |
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