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Smith, Francis Hopkinson, 1838-1915

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


"I don't blame you, Mr. McGowan," he said in a restrained, even
voice. "I have no doubt that it's due you and you ought to have
it, but I've been pretty hard pressed lately with some matters in
New York; so much so that I've been obliged to take the early
morning train,--and you can see yourself what time I get home.
Just give me a day or two longer and I'll examine the work and
straighten it out. And then again, I'm not very well."
The contractor glared into the speaker's face as if to continue
the discussion, then his features relaxed. Something in the sound
of Carry's voice, or perhaps some line of suffering in his face
must have touched him.
"Well, of course, I ain't no hog," he exclaimed in a softer tone,
which was meant as an apology, "and if you're sick that ends it,
but I've got all them men to pay and--"
"Yes, I understand and I won't forget. Thank you, Mr. McGowan, and
good-night. Come along, Jack,--Corinne's worrying, and will be
till I get home."
The two kept silent as they walked up the hill Garry, because he
was too tired to discuss the cowardly attack; Jack, because what
he had to say must be said when they were alone,--when he could
get hold of Garry's hand and make him open his heart.


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