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He was out of touch with current events, and had stopped at the bookstall more from force of habit than from any real interest. He had wired to Peters again from the docks. Would she be waiting for him at the station? It was scarcely probable. Their meeting could not be other than constrained, the platform of a wayside railway station was hardly a suitable place.
He didn't notice that I was after it too. So I drew back. I thought I'd wait and see what happens." "He looks as if he could do with half-a-sovereign," said Mr Gale. "Yes; he's only a station loafer." "Then why doesn't he pick up his half-sovereign and hook it?" "Can't you see why?" said Mr Sandbach, patronizingly. "He's afraid of the bookstall clerk catching him at it.
At last I gave up all attempts at finding a solution, and contented myself with exactly carrying out the instructions which I had received. With a hand valise, specimen-case, and a loaded cane, I was waiting at the Paddington bookstall when Lord Linchmere arrived. He was an even smaller man than I had thought frail and peaky, with a manner which was more nervous than it had been in the morning.
At the bookstall upon the platform Drake bought a copy of the Times, and whilst taking his change he was attracted by a grayish-green volume prominently displayed upon the white newspapers. The sobriety of the binding caught his fancy. He picked it up, and read the gold-lettered title on the back A Man of Influence.
The lady at the bookstall turned and looked at him. She flushed suddenly, and then as suddenly grew pale. She raised her hand hurriedly and pulled her veil over her face. Sir Gilbert stared at her in amazement. Then his face, too, changed colour. "I I beg your pardon," he said; "I mistook you for my niece. It's quite inconceivable to me how I a most remarkable likeness.
It makes it all so miserable, when we might be enjoying ourselves." "Don't trouble: leave her to herself. I'll get you some papers." On returning from the bookstall, he slipped loose silver into Patty's hands. "Use that if you want anything on the journey. And I haven't forgot my promise." "Nonsense!" "Go and take your places now: there's only ten minutes to wait."
The treatment did, in fact, avail me, for within forty-eight hours I was out of bed, and out of the house; and, what is better yet, I picked up at a bookstall, for a mere song, a first edition of "Special Providences in New England"! Never, however, have I wholly ceased to regret the loss of the Elzevir, for an Elzevir is to me one of the most gladdening sights human eye can rest upon.
Therefore he was left with a choice as to which he would follow. Obviously, he could not follow both of them unless Like Boris, he glanced up at the clock, and then to the announcement board of the trains. The Bournemouth train left at 3.30. It was now ten past. Whittington and Boris were walking up and down by the bookstall.
A fine old city Norman master-work Lollards' Hole Good blood The Spaniard's sword Old retired officer Writing to a duke God help the child Nothing like Jacob Irish brigades Old Sergeant Meredith I have been young Idleness Only course open The bookstall A portrait A banished priest.
It had not occurred to him to apologise to the jostled marchioness a few minutes before. He was now anxious to abase himself before the lady at the bookstall. "I sincerely beg your pardon," he said. "I should not have dreamed for a moment of intruding myself on you if I had known. I ought to have recognised you. I can't understand "
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