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Doctor Powers, catching a glimpse of the expression on his patient's face, was obliged to wait an instant before venturing to reply. Galusha himself took advantage of the interval. "Why why " he cried, "I Dear me, dear me, I must have forgotten it entirely. My suitcase! I ah it must be on the veranda of that hotel. I left it there." "What hotel? The Restabit Inn?" "Yes. He got no further.
He tired of the mountains; there were too many people there, they made him feel "queerer" than ever. On his way from Atlantic City to the mountains he happened upon the discarded magazine with the advertisement of the Restabit Inn in it. Just why he had torn out that "ad" and kept it he was himself, perhaps, not quite sure.
And food and rest, not to mention reasonable prices and pleasant people and no frills, were all but a mile away at the Restabit Inn at Gould's Bluffs beautiful Gould's Bluffs. No wonder they called them beautiful.
Raish Pulcifer had his wife resurrect his black-and-white striped flannel trousers from the moth chest and hang them in the yard. "No use talkin'," so Zach Bloomer declared, "summer is headin' down our way. She'll be here afore we know it." She was. One pleasant morning Galusha, emerging from the Phipps' "side door," saw workmen about the premises of the Restabit Inn.
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