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Fuller, Henry Blake, 1857-1929

"Bertram Cope's Year"


Phillips, on the way home; "it makes him seem quite human." Inwardly, she
was resolving to have both the young men to dine at the earliest possible
date. It was not always practicable to invite a single young man as often
as you wished. Having two to ask simplified the problem considerably.
Cope, flushed and now rather tired, walked up stairs with his photographs,
took a perfunctory sip from a medicine-glass, looked at the inkstain on his
finger, and sat down at his table. Two or three sheets of a letter were
lying on it, and he re-read a paragraph or so before dipping his pen.
"You were rather exacting about that week-end excursion. Mr. R. was all
right, and a few days of new air and new scenes would have done me a lot of
good. Still, I acknowledge your first claim. But remember that I gave up
Indian Rock for you, even if you didn't give up Green Bay for me. I hope
the fellow who took you hasn't got anything further to propose. If he has,
I ask for a tip in turn.
"Naturally it wasn't the easiest thing in the world to explain to him, and
I haven't seen him since. But I can truly say that a relative _did_
come, and that she was needed--or thought she was.


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