You are coining, too, Major. Get into your coats and things!"
"But Isaac is pressing my swallow-tail."
"I don't mean your dress-coat, man--your OVERCOAT! Now I am sure
you didn't read my letter? Some of my young fellows haven't got
such a thing--too poor."
"But look at YOURS!"
"Yes, I had to slip into mine out of respect to the occasion; my
boys wouldn't like it if I didn't. Sort of uniform to them, but
they'd be mighty uncomfortable if you wore yours. Hurry up, we
haven't a minute to lose."
Peter had forced the architect into one of the big chairs by the
fire by this time, and stood bending over him, his hands resting
on Morris's broad shoulders.
"Take the Major with you, that's a good fellow, and let me drop in
about eleven o'clock," he pleaded, an expression on his face seen
only when two men understand and love each other. "There's a
letter from Felicia to attend to; she writes she is coming down
for a couple of weeks, and then I've really had a devil of a day
at the bank."
"No, you old fraud, you can't wheedle me that way.
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