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Fuller, Henry Blake, 1857-1929

"Bertram Cope's Year"

"Something's wrong."
"Well, let it go. Enough for now. Read."
There followed a half hour of historical essay, during which Foster a few
times surreptitiously fingered his needles and yarn.
"Shall you have a reading-circle at your new diggings?" he asked after a
while.
"If two can be said to make a circle,--and if you will really come."
"I'm coming. But I never understood that only two points could establish a
circle. Three, anyway."
"Circle!" exclaimed Randolph. "Don't worry the word to death."
He went away presently, and as he walked his thoughts returned to Indian
Rock. The excursion seemed a valid undertaking at an advantageous time; and
he could easily spare a couple of days from the formation of his new
establishment. He called on Cope that evening. Cope felt sure he could
clear things for Saturday, and expressed pleasure at the general prospect.
He happened to be writing to Lemoyne that evening and passed along his
pleasure at the prospect to his friend. A few jaunts, outings or interludes
of that kind, together with his week at his home in Freeford, over
Christmas, would agreeably help fill in the time before Arthur's own
arrival in January.


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