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Updated: May 21, 2025
He believed he would himself have resented it had he been in Richling's place. The young pair passed on, and that night, as Dr. Sevier sat at his fireside, an uncompanioned widower, he saw again the young wife look quickly up into her husband's face, and across that face flit and disappear its look of weary dismay, followed by the air of fresh courage with which the young couple had said good-by.
For her new foe was a woman, and a woman trying to speak in defence of the husband against whose arm she clung. "Ah-h-h!" Her chin went up; her eyes shot lightning; she folded her arms fiercely, and drew herself to her best height; and, as Richling's eyes shot back in rising indignation, cried: "Ziss pless? 'Tis not ze pless! Zis pless is diss'nt pless! I am diss'nt woman, me!
Riley, as she opened her parlor door in response to a knock. "Well, I'll be switched! ha! ha! I didn't think it was you at all. Take a seat and sit down!" It was good to see how she enjoyed the visit. Whenever she listened to Richling's words she rocked in her rocking-chair vigorously, and when she spoke stopped its motion and rested her elbows on its arms. "And how is Mrs.
Mary looked an instant at two bare, rakish, yellow poles showing out against the clump of cypresses, and the trim little white hull and apple-green deck from which they sprang, then clasped her hands and ran into the house. Dr. Sevier came to Richling's room one afternoon, and handed him a sealed letter.
A little way above it he paused to look at some machinery in motion. He liked machinery, for itself rather than for its results. He would have gone in and examined the workings of this apparatus had it not been for the sign above his head, "No Admittance." Those words always seemed painted for him. A slight modification in Richling's character might have made him an inventor.
"You've been smiling worse than a boy with a love-letter." "I've been hoping you'd ask me what's the matter." "Well, then, Richling, what is the matter?" "Mary has a daughter." "What!" cried the Doctor, springing up with a radiant face, and grasping Richling's hand in both his own. Richling laughed aloud, nodded, laughed again, and gave either eye a quick, energetic wipe with all his fingers.
The vagrant sank limply to the pavement, his companion quickly untying the jacket sleeves from under his own arms and wadding the garment under Richling's head. "Do you know what I'm in here for, Ristofalo?" moaned Richling. "Don't know, don't care. Yo' wife know you here?" Richling shook his head on the jacket. The Italian asked her address, and Richling gave it.
"Doctor Sevier," said Richling, as he and the physician paused half way between the sick-chambers of Reisen and his wife, "I hope you'll not think it foolhardy for me to expose myself by nursing these people" "No," replied the veteran, in a tone of indifference, and passed on; the tincture of self-approval that had "mixed" with Richling's motives went away to nothing.
"Yes," replied the Doctor, "yes!" drew back his hand with the paper still in it, turned to his desk, opened the list, and wrote. Richling's eyes followed the pen; his heart came slowly up into his throat. "Why, Doc Doctor, that's more than any one else has" "They have probably made some mistake," said Dr. Sevier, rubbing the blotting-paper with his finger.
Narcisse, on receiving his scolding from Richling, had gone to his home in Casa Calvo street, a much greater sufferer than he had appeared to be. While he was confronting his abaser there had been a momentary comfort in the contrast between Richling's ill-behavior and his own self-control. It had stayed his spirit and turned the edge of Richling's sharp denunciations.
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