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Hough, Emerson, 1857-1923

"The Way of a Man"

"Why do you ask me? You say one
ought to know what is right in his own case without any such asking, and
I say that isn't always true. Oh, damn it all, anyway. Why are we made
the way we are?"
"If only the girl in each case would be content by having the handsome
thing done by her!" said I, bitterly.


CHAPTER XXXIX
THE UNCOVERING OF GORDON ORME

It is not necessary for me to state that dinner in the Sheraton hall,
with its dull mahogany and its shining silver and glass, was barely
better than a nightmare to me, who should have been most happy. At least
there remained the topic of politics and war; and never was I more glad
to plunge into such matters than upon that evening. In some way the
dinner hour passed. Miss Grace pleaded a headache and left us; my mother
asked leave; and presently our hostess and host departed. Harry and I
remained to stare at each other moodily. I admit I was glad when finally
he announced his intention of retiring.
A servant showed me my own room, and some time before midnight I went
up, hoping that I might sleep. My long life in the open air had made all
rooms and roofs seem confining and distasteful to me, and I slept badly
in the best of beds.


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