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Short Story Classics (American) Vol. 2

Chapter 8 No.8

Word Count: 1353    |    Released on: 06/12/2017

of which had frightened Crombie, had occurred. Littimer

e made rare exceptions. But he had not progressed very far before he became annoyed by an unaccustomed intrusion of dampness that threatened him with a cold. He looked down, carefully surveyed the artificial casing of his e

f his usual maker. What had happened to him? Was he dreaming? It seemed to him that he had gone back many years; that he was a poor young man again, e

drying, faced him with a sort of haunting look. However much he might be occupied with weightier matters, he could not keep his eyes from straying in that direction; and whenever they rested on that battered "right" and that way-worn "left," turned up in that mute, appealing rep

mpanionships that would make her existence the richer? Had he not kept her too much to himself? On the other hand, he had gratified all her material wants; she could wear what she pleased, she could go where she chose, she had acquaintances of a sort becoming to the daught

e things and had some share in them, albeit only through sympathy and

s world of sorrows. It was the first that had escaped Littimer in years. Let us say that it was a breathing space, wh

r three minutes. The office boy was greatly puzzled the next morning, when he found all t

them, furtively. He was

r? As to that he was by no means certain; he knew only that he must get out of the beaten track, out of the ruts. For an hour or two he must cease to be Littimer, the prosperous moneyed man, and must tread once more th

ablecloth was dirty; the attendance was irregular and distracted. Littimer took one sip of the sour wine-which had a flavor resembling vinegar and carmine ink in equal parts-and left the further contents of

prim-whiskered young clerks; shabby, lonely, sallow young women, whose sallowness and shabbiness stamped them with the mark of integrity; other fe

d, "are no worse than I am. But a

foolish that he should sympathize, but he could not help it. "And, after all," was the next thought that came to him, "are we to giv

n acquaintance who, he knew, was very active in charitie

your distress cases

," answered the man of charity

y mu

instances they went to small and cheap but decent lodgings over the shops on West Side avenues, or even penetrated into boarding-houses of such good appearance that the banker was surprised to find his friend's missio

itical times," said the banker, with satisf

, with his friend's sanction, he was dispensing money and offers of goodwill to the needy. What a strange freak it was, though, in Litti

n his mind that he was per

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