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Updated: June 12, 2025
The next day, after going through the usual performance of asking for Miss Stanton and being informed by Mr. Joles of the young lady's absence, Von Barwig ventured to extend the field of his inquiry. "Is Mr. Stanton in?" he asked in a low voice, scarcely knowing why he should ask for her father, or what he should say if he was fortunate enough to obtain an interview with him. "Mr.
"I shall go out to dinner. Is there a restaurant near here that you can recommend?" asked Von Barwig. "Dinner? Why it's nearly ten o'clock!" replied Miss Hasted, "let me get you a cup of tea." "No, thank you, madam. I must go into the street, into the café, where there is life, and people; I must get away from myself. Here I think too much my own thoughts. Where did you say?"
"That's so, professor, you look just as handsome as a bridegroom," burst out Miss Husted. Von Barwig wore a grey satin tie, a flower was pinned in the lapel of his old Prince Albert coat, and his spotlessly clean cuffs and kid gloves gave him an appearance of festivity that was most unusual. "A wedding? You are right, all of you!" said Von Barwig, with a deep breath.
Heaven only knows you've worked hard enough for it! Your efforts to instill your ideas into my head deserve far greater recognition than mere money payment." "No, no! I have not worked. It has been so great a pleasure. No, decidedly there has been no work! I do not feel myself entitled to take, until you show some progress." Von Barwig felt himself on terra firma again.
Von Barwig, as soon as the usher tapped him on the arm, realised that he had made a dreadful mistake, and sank back into his seat, trembling with excitement and shame. He had not intended to do such a thing and could not explain even to himself how it had happened.
By some strange process of thought, Von Barwig recognised this fact, but it seemed to him to mean that because his money had come to an end his search had also come to an end. The result of his trip to Chicago could not but be favourable, because he dared not think of its failure.
"There's no room in America for the man who fails," he added, ringing up a fare with an angry jerk and then relapsing into moody silence. After many delays, owing to the packing of the snow on the car tracks, Von Barwig arrived at the steamship office, bought his ticket, and commenced his weary journey uptown. "I shall see her to-day," he thought. "I shall see her.
"Why not?" cried Von Barwig; but Poons did not speak. He stood like some dumb animal awaiting his master's lash; and then Von Barwig knew that Poons knew. "Come!" said Von Barwig in a low, hard voice, with such firmness and determination that Poons, in spite of himself, was compelled to go forward.
When you came in, I felt so sorry for you, and you looked so unhappy that I had to come down and ask you to forgive me. I I just couldn't help it. You're not angry, are you?" "My dear, dear little girl. I, angry?" Von Barwig shook his head. "How could I be angry with you? Why should I? Why, it's it's impossible!" and Von Barwig laughed at the very idea.
A dollar and a half a night, eight till three; is it a bargain?" Von Barwig paused, then drew a long deep breath and nodded affirmatively. "You'll be fine fine," said he of the big voice. "I can see it in your eye; you ain't one of them smart felleys." He grabbed the hand of his new attraction and shook it heartily. "Say, George," he roared, "come here! This is the new night professor."
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