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Smith, Francis Hopkinson, 1838-1915

"Peter: a novel of which he is not the hero"

"
Jack shook his head and resumed his seat beside Biffy, who had not
moved or shown the slightest interest in the affair. Nobody could
sell Biff any gold stock--nor any other kind of stock. His came on
the first of every month in a check from the Trust Company.
For some moments Jack did not speak. He knew young Gilbert, and he
knew his young and very charming wife. He had once sat next to her
at dinner, when her whole conversation had been about this new
home and the keen interest that Morris, a friend of her father's,
had taken in it. "Mr. Breen, you and Miss Corinne must be among
our earliest guests," she had said, at which Corinne, who was next
to Garry, had ducked her little head in acceptance. This was the
young fellow, then, who had been caught in one of the eddies
whirling over the sunken rocks of the Street. Not very creditable
to his intelligence, perhaps, thought Jack; but, then, again, who
had placed them there, a menace to navigation?--and why? Certainly
Peter could not have known everything that was going on around
him, if he thought the effort of so insignificant an individual as
himself could be of use in clearing out obstructions like these.


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