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Stephens, Robert Neilson, 1867-1906

"The Mystery of Murray Davenport A Story of New York at the Present Day"

It was convenient to have them in a volume. I'm
sorry it has disappeared from the shops. I'd like very much to have
another look through it."
"You can easily have that," said Larcher, who had impatiently awaited a
chance to speak. "I happen to possess the book."
"Oh, indeed? I envy you. I haven't seen a copy of it in years."
"You're very welcome to see mine. I wouldn't part with it permanently,
of course, but if you don't object to borrowing--"
"Oh, I wouldn't deprive you of it, even for a short time. The value of
owning such a thing is to have it always by; one mayn't touch it for
months, but, when the mood comes for it, there it is. I never permit
anybody to lend me such things."
"Then if you deprive me of the pleasure of lending it, will you take the
trouble of coming to see it?" Larcher handed him his card.
"You're very kind," replied Turl, glancing at the address. "If you're
sure it won't be putting you to trouble. At what time shall I be least
in your way?"
"I shall be in to-morrow afternoon,--but perhaps you're not free till
evening."
"Oh, I can choose my hours; I have nothing to do to-morrow afternoon."
("Evidently a gentleman of leisure," thought Larcher.)
So it was settled that he should call about three o'clock, an appointment
which Mr. Kenby, whose opinion of Larcher had not changed since their
first meeting, viewed with decided lack of interest.
When Larcher left, a few minutes later, he was so far under the spell of
the newcomer's amiability that he felt as if their acquaintance were
considerably older than three-quarters of an hour.


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