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Updated: May 8, 2025
Joe Dauntless's cousin held his lantern on high and finally discovered the waiter near the pile of cordwood, ready to run at a moment's notice. "Who are you?" demanded Mr. Carpenter. "Gustave. But you ain't the man." "I ain't, eh? Didn't you whistle a minute ago?" "I ain't supposed to. I cough. Say, do you know if a wedding has taken place here? I am a witness." "Oh, I see. He said he'd bring one.
Where did you say the hotel was? I'll go up and get ready. Oh, by the way, who is the young lady?" "She's a friend of Mr. Dauntless's," said Mr. Derby. "To be sure; I might have known. Silly question." The young men watched him enter the hotel, but they did not see him fall into the clutches of his wife just inside the door. "Where have you been?" demanded Mrs. Van Truder.
The fog and mist combined to run the many lights of the Thursdale windows into a single smear of colour a few shades brighter than the darkness from which it protruded. Dauntless's heart was inside that vague, impressionistic circle of colour, but his brain was very much in evidence on the distant outside.
Generosity and anger swayed him confusedly; but as he watched Jane trudging down under the Dauntless's tipple he became clear enough to register with himself a vow. "Lola has got to know the truth!" he declared. "Maybe it's none of my business, but all the same she's going to know it, and know it now!" And he got up, grimly resolute.
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