Castle Richmond by Anthony Trollope
page 330 of 755 (43%)
page 330 of 755 (43%)
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the truth, Father Columb was not a nice-looking young man. He was
red-haired, slightly marked with the small-pox, and had a low forehead and cunning eyes. "Yes, it is a nice morning," said Herbert. "We don't expect anybody else here, do we, Somers?" "At any rate we won't wait," said Somers. So he sat down in the arm-chair, and they all went to work. "I am afraid, Mr. Somers," said Mr. M'Carthy from the other end of the table, where he had constituted himself a sort of deputy chairman, "I am afraid we are going on a wrong tack." The priest had shuffled away his chair as he began to speak, and was now standing with his hands upon the table. It is singular how strong a propensity some men have to get upon their legs in this way. "How so, Mr. M'Carthy?" said Somers. "But shan't we be all more comfortable if we keep our chairs? There'll be less ceremony, won't there, Mr. Townsend?" "Oh! certainly," said Townsend. "Less liable to interruption, perhaps, on our legs," said Father Columb, smiling blandly. But Mr. M'Carthy was far too wise to fight the question, so he sat down. "Just as you like," said he; "I can talk any way, sitting or standing, walking or riding; it's all one to me. But I'll tell you how we are on the wrong tack. We shall never get these men to work |
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