Crisis, the — Volume 01 by Winston Churchill
page 17 of 86 (19%)
page 17 of 86 (19%)
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"Spauldin'," was the prompt reply. "Wal, I want t' know!" cried the spinster: "not Ezra Spauldin'?" Eliphalet nodded. That nod was one of infinite shrewdness which commended itself to Miss Crane. These courtesies, far from making awkward the material discussion which followed; did not affect it in the least. "So you want me to board you?" said she, as if in consternation. Eliphalet calculated, if they could come to terms. And Mr. Barbo keyed himself to enjoyment. "Single gentlemen," said she, "pay as high as twelve dollars." And she added that they had no cause to complain of her table. Eliphalet said he guessed he'd have to go somewhere else. Upon this the lady vouchsafed the explanation that those gentlemen had high positions and rented her large rooms. Since Mr. Hopper was from Willesden and knew the Salters, she would be willing to take him for less. Eliphalet said bluntly he would give three and a half. Barbo gasped. This particular kind of courage was wholly beyond him. Half an hour later Eliphalet carried his carpet-bag up three flights and put it down in a tiny bedroom under the eaves, still pulsing with heat waves. Here he was to live, and eat at Miss Crane's table for the consideration of four dollars a week. Such is the story of the humble beginning of one substantial prop of the |
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