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Duncan, Sara Jeannette, 1862?-1922

"The Imperialist"

"
"I hope to get there," the young lawyer answered; and as
he spoke a concentration came into his face which drove
the elation and everything else that was boyish out of
it. "It's bigger business than I could have expected for
another five years. I'm sorry for the old man, though--HE'S
nervous, if you like. They can hardly keep him in bed.
Isn't that somebody beckoning to you?"
Elmore looked everywhere except in the right direction
among the carts. If you had. been "to the Collegiate,"
relatives among the carts selling squashes were
embarrassing.
"There," his companion indicated.
"It's Mother," replied Mr Crow, with elaborate unconcern;
"but I don't suppose she's in anything of a hurry. I'll
just go along with you far's the post-office." He kept
his glance carefully from the spot at which he was
signalled, and a hint of copper colour crawled up the
back of his neck.
"Oh, but she is. Come along, Elmore; I can go that way."
"It'll be longer for you."
"Not a bit." Lorne cast a shrewd glance at his companion.
"And as we're passing, you might just introduce me to
your mother; see?"
"She won't expect it, Lorne."
"That's all right, my son. She won't refuse to meet a
friend of yours." He led the way as he spoke to the point
of vantage occupied by Mrs Crow, followed, with plain
reluctance, by her son.


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