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Updated: June 5, 2025
He was a lovable fellow, and there was something kindred in his soul and Hillard's, possibly the spirit of romance. They had met years before, at a commencement, Merrihew in his mortar-board and gown and Hillard as an old graduate, renewing his youth at the fountains. What drew them together, perhaps more than anything else, was their mutual love of out-door pleasures.
"Very well, then; it begins to look as if I had." It was apparent to Hillard that Sandford was not in his wife's confidence in all things. He also saw the wisdom of dropping the subject while at the table. To take up the thread of that romance again! He needed no wine to tingle his blood. They took coffee and liqueur in the glass-inclosed balcony.
So they parted, the two young men having promised to dine with the Sandford party that evening. "What luck, Dan!" Hillard was exuberant. "Saves you the price of a dinner." "I wasn't thinking of that. But I shall find out all about her to-night." "Who?" "The Lady in the Fog, the masquerading lady!" "Bah! I should prefer something more solid than a vanishing lady."
He had, however, an unsubstantial Utopian sort of claim for it, against the Association, which he placed in the hands of George S. Hillard, and subsequent negotiation would seem to have resulted in giving Hawthorne a lease of the Ripley house, or "Old Manse," in return for it.
"This is a pleasant moment." He stood back again. "Are you speaking to me?" asked Hillard, not the least perturbed. He had not stirred in his chair, though every muscle in his body was alert and ready at a moment's call. "Certainly I am speaking to you. You understand Italian sufficiently well.
"Perhaps your knowledge of women is more extensive than mine," said Hillard, without the least irony. But this flattery did not appeal to Merrihew. "Bosh! There's something you haven't told me about that makes you so indifferent." This was a shrewd guess, but Hillard had his reasons for not letting his friend see how close he had shot. "A lady? Grace of Mary, that is droll!"
After a short skirmish they located their belongings, which unfortunately were far down toward the end of the barrier. They would have to be patient. Hillard held in his hands his return coupons to Genoa. Sometimes this helps at the frontier; and if one has a steamer ticket, better still. Inspectors then understand that one is to be but a transient guest.
When I'm married to her it will be mutually understood that so long as I do not speak to them I may look at pretty women." "You seem very sure of marrying her." "It's only a matter of time. The man who hangs on wins finally." Merrihew had lost none of his confidence. "I see; they marry you to get rid of you," said Hillard. "Yes, the man who hangs on finally wins, in love or war or fortune.
Pompeo called and Achille answered. There was a war of words, figure of a dog, name of a pig. Achille was in the wrong, but ten lire were ten lire. And he knew that his gentlemen meant no harm. Hillard caught the gondola by the rail and clung.
But this was his hour of triumph, and he proposed to make the most of it. "I could have let the carabinieri take you to prison," he said urbanely. "A night in a damp cell would have chastened your spirit. But I preferred to settle this affair as quickly as possible. But this friend of yours, he annoys me." "Is it possible?" returned Hillard.
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