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If I stay in pedt it's zo I can fling money away on somethings else. Heigh?" "But what are you living here for, Lindau?" March smiled at the irony lurking in Lindau's words. "Well, you zee, I foundt I was begoming a lidtle too moch of an aristograt.
She was a tall woman, who had been a beautiful girl, and her gray hair had a memory of blondeness in it like Lindau's, March noticed. She wore a simple silk gown, of a Quakerly gray, and she held a handkerchief folded square, as it had come from the laundress. Something like the Sabbath quiet of a little wooden meeting-house in thick Western woods expressed itself to him from her presence.
"If it had been a question of making 'Every Other Week' the vehicle of Lindau's peculiar opinions though they're not so very peculiar; he might have got the most of them out of Ruskin I shouldn't have had any ground to stand on, or at least then I should have had to ask myself whether his opinions would be injurious to the magazine or not." "I don't see," Mrs.
"If it had been a question of making 'Every Other Week' the vehicle of Lindau's peculiar opinions though they're not so very peculiar; he might have got the most of them out of Ruskin I shouldn't have had any ground to stand on, or at least then I should have had to ask myself whether his opinions would be injurious to the magazine or not." "I don't see," Mrs.
"Perhaps none," the colonel admitted. But he added, "I should like the opportunity of taking Mr. Lindau's hand in the presence of Mr. Dryfoos and assuring him that I considered him a man of principle and a man of honor a gentleman, sir, whom I was proud and happy to have known."
On these occasions Fulkerson always tried to start him on the theme of the unduly rich; he made himself the champion of monopolies, and enjoyed the invectives which Lindau heaped upon him as a slave of capital; he said that it did him good. One day, with the usual show of writhing under Lindau's scorn, he said, "Well, I understand that although you despise me now, Lindau "
I am sawry for him; I would not hoart hiss feelings, boat I could not pear to douch him, and hiss mawney iss like boison!" March tried to reason with Lindau, to show him the folly, the injustice, the absurdity of his course; it ended in their both getting angry, and in Lindau's going away in a whirl of German that included Basil in the guilt of the man whom Lindau called his master.
Fulkerson called out, "Here's Colonel Woodburn, Mr. Dryfoos," as if Dryfoos were looking for him; and he set the example of what he was to do by taking Lindau's arm himself. "Mr. Lindau is going to sit at my end of the table, alongside of March. Stand not upon the order of your going, gentlemen, but fall in at once."
"But don't you see," said Fulkerson, "that it's just Lindau's opinions the old man can't stand? He hasn't got anything against him personally. I don't suppose there's anybody that appreciates Lindau in some ways more than the old man does." "I understand. He wants to punish him for his opinions. Well, I can't consent to that, directly or indirectly.
He got him buried with military honors, and had a shaft raised over him, with a medallion likeness by Beaton and an epitaph by himself, by the time they reached Forty-second Street; there was no time to write Lindau's life, however briefly, before the train stopped.
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