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Surely it is not the place of a man to poke fun at his friend?" The argument was apparently convincing. The Baron's secretary smoked on in thoughtful silence, his eyes fixed upon the wall in front of him. "Well," he said at last, "if you promise to view the matter in all seriousness, I'll tell you. Briefly, it's this.
After the old man's opening remark a long silence fell. Seth's thoughts ran on unchecked in spite of the other's presence. Rube smoked and watched the lean figure beside him out of the corners of his eyes. He was speculating, too, but his thought was of their own immediate surroundings. Now that Seth was about again he felt that it would be good to talk with him.
He smoked for a few minutes, took one last draw from the pipe and handed it back to Chaske, and then he said: "Now, my friends, I am not a living man, but the wandering spirit of a once great warrior, who was killed in these woods by the enemy whom you two brave young men are now seeking to make war upon.
He never once spoke of his past life, never once referred to the future. He merely accepted Babbacombe's hospitality in absolute silence, without question, without gratitude, smoked his cigarettes eternally, drank his wines without appreciation, rode his horses without comment.
Painter crossed to me and suggested, lugubriously, a cigar on the balcony. He smoked a few minutes in gloomy silence. "Does that fellow know anything?" he emitted at last, jerking his head at Watkins, who was pouring out information at Uncle Ezra. I began gently to give Charles Henderson Watkins a fair reputation for intelligence. "I mean anything about art?
"Yes, sir, for two or three minutes. Why?" We were standing out in the well-furnished hall and I glanced around. "Your master was in quite good health as he ate his dinner and smoked his cigarette?" I remarked. "Quite. He came out of the room and standing here I gave him his hat, coat, gloves and stick. After he had put on his coat he drew on his left-hand glove.
And he smoked a cigar, and gave me a whole lot of vesuvians to strike by myself behind a tent. You could smell vesuvians and cigars and sunshiny trod-on grass everywhere. 'Tell us about the Highlanders, said Dick. 'They was all ten foot high, said Paul. 'They wouldn't have 'em in the eleven without they was ten foot high. Dick said that stood to reason.
He wrote very bitterly, but it was hard to feel compassion for his offended stomach. On the other hand, young Tom Blaize was not forthcoming, and had despatched no tidings whatever. Farmer Blaize smoked his pipe evening after evening, vastly disturbed. London was a large place young Tom might be lost in it, he thought; and young Tom had his weaknesses.
"I want to give a supper, but having nothing at hand except some smoked salmon, I think of going marketing, but I remember that it is Sunday afternoon, when all the shops are closed. I next try to telephone to some caterers, but the telephone is out of order.... Thus I must resign my wish to give a supper."
Doggie took one from the crumpled paper packet which was handed to him, and lit it. He made a wry face, never before having smoked American tobacco. "How do you like the flavour?" asked Phineas. "I think I'd prefer the elephants' house," said Doggie, eyeing the thing with disgust. "You'll find it the flavour of the whole British Army," said McPhail.
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