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Say, he always reminds me of the dumb friend of the great detective in the magazine stories, the one that goes along to the scene of the crime to ask silly questions and make fool guesses about the guilty one, and never even suspects who done the murder, till the detective tells on the last page when they're all together in the library. "Sure, that's Wilbur. It would be an ideal position for him.
I reckon souls do wake up but I can feel the public dropping off every page after two hundred like chilled bees dropping off page by page and the old familiar battle ahead for me. I can feel that tight look of poverty about the eyes again " "Are you going to put her soul back to sleep?" I asked, as we turned again into the crowd. I wasn't the least lordly in this question.
There's a splendid bit on, I think, page two hundred and fifty-four where the hero finds out all about Copyhold and Customary Estates. It's a wonderfully powerful situation. It appears but I won't spoil it for you. Mind you don't skip to see how it all comes out in the end!"
This Charter, which everlastingly must remain one of the Scriptures of our planet, simple as a baby's syllables, yet large like the arch of Heaven, has left its mark on the human soul. On the morning of the 16th its twenty clauses occupied in pica a page of every newspaper, and it was posted up big in the streets of cities.
It came back to England after he'd had his fill of Hudson's Bay and the earth beneath, and had gone, as he himself said on the last page of the journal, to follow the king's buglers in 'the land that is far off. God and the devil were strong in old John York. I didn't lose much time after I'd read the journal.
But I found I could not fix my attention on the page, nor could I think at all connectedly. Little by little my eyelids closed; the book dropped from my nerveless hand; and in a few minutes I was in a deep and tranquil slumber. Roses, roses!
She broke the seal with shaking hands, and with shaking hands approached the written page to the light. Her eyes grew troubled as she read; the shaking of her hands increased, and midway through that reading a moan escaped her. One glance that was almost terror she darted at the slim, straight man standing so incredibly impassive upon the edge of the light, and then she endeavoured to read on.
It was a page thrusting aside the arras that broke the spell. Opening his mouth to make a flourishing announcement, the words were checked on his tongue by four white hands motioning stern commands for silence. "It is the King's Marshal," he framed with protesting lips. But even that failed to gain him admittance.
They were kings of Prussia because Prussia was extraneous to the European system. There came a moment, as I have pointed out in an earlier page in this book, when the Prussian kingship and the electorate of Brandenburg coincided in one person. All men of education know, and all men whatsoever feel, what influence an historical origin will have upon national outlook.
"Indeed, that is its name," said I, and showed her the title on the first page. "And I've a really splendid idea for the third act," I added, as we shook hands. I mounted the stairs to my room, tossed the manuscript into a chair, and began to wind up my watch. "But this other wants a third act too!" I told myself suddenly.
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