A Traveler from Altruria: Romance by William Dean Howells
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page 6 of 222 (02%)
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dreaded another display of active sympathy on the part of my strange
companion; I have often felt sorry myself for the porters of hotels, but I have never thought of offering to help them handle the heavy trunks that they manage. The Altrurian was delighted with the hotel; and in fact it did look extremely pretty, with its branching piazzas full of well-dressed people, and its green lawns where the children were playing. I led the way to the room which I had taken for him next my own; it was simply furnished, but it was sweet with matting, fresh linen, and pure whitewashed walls. I flung open the window-blinds and let him get a glimpse of the mountains purpling under the sunset, the lake beneath, and the deeply foliaged shores. "Glorious! glorious!" he sighed. "Yes," I modestly assented. "We think that's rather fine." He stood tranced before the window, and I thought I had better say: "Well, now I can't give you much time to get the dust of travel off; the dining-room doors close at eight, and we must hurry down." "I'll be with you in a moment," he said, pulling off his coat. I waited impatiently at the foot of the stairs, avoiding the question I met on the lips and in the eyes of my acquaintance. The fame of my friend's behavior at the station must have spread through the whole place; and everybody wished to know who he was. I answered simply he was a traveler from Altruria; and in some cases I went further and explained that the Altrurians were peculiar. |
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