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Duncan, Sara Jeannette, 1862?-1922

"The Imperialist"

You have all the look," she added, with
a gravely considering glance at him, "of a person who
ought to take care of his chest."
He withdrew his eyes hurriedly, and fixed them instead
on his pipe. He always brought it with him, by her order,
and Advena usually sewed. He thought as he watched her
that it made the silences enjoyable.
"And expensive, I dare say, too," he said.
"Yes, more or less. Alec paid fifty dollars for his, and
never liked it."
"Fifty dollars--ten pounds! No vair for me!" he declared.
"By the way, Mrs Firmin is threatening to turn me out of
house and home. A married daughter is coming to live with
her, and she wants my rooms."
"When does she come--the married daughter?"
"Oh, not till the early spring! There's no immediate
despair," said Finlay, "but it is dislocating. My books
and I had just succeeded in making room for one another."
"But you will have to move, in any case, in the early
spring."
"I suppose I will. I had--I might have remembered that."
"Have you found a house yet?" Advena asked him.
"No."
"Have you been looking?" It was a gentle, sensible
reminder.
"I'm afraid I haven't." He moved in his chair as if in
physical discomfort. "Do you think I ought--so soon?
There are always plenty of--houses, aren't there?"
"Not plenty of desirable ones.


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