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The Reverberator

The Reverberator

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Chapter 1 No.1

Word Count: 3990    |    Released on: 06/12/2017

at is the way George Flack considered him, and indeed he looked older than he was. George Flack had found him sitting in the court of the hotel

t was not in Mr. Flack's line to notice that sort of thing. He accepted the old gentleman's good offices as he would have accepted those of a waiter, conveying no hint of an attention paid also to himself. An observer of these two persons would have assured himself that the degree to which Mr. Dosson thought i

of fringe and no fire, of a window with a great deal of curtain and no light, and of the Figaro, which he couldn't read, and the New York Herald, which he had already read. A single person was just now in possession of these conveniences-a young lady who sat with her back to the window, looking straight before her into the conventional room. She was dressed as f

to wander: he had an impermanent transitory air, an aspect of weary yet patient non-arrival, even when he sat, as he was capable of sitting for hours, in the court of the

far as could be perceived, pass over her large young face. S

ther remarked, as if mildly, and as a mere p

o at the newspapers. He examined the date of the American sheet and then put it

; but of course we

I could show you somet

n most everything,"

ore than you!" excl

a good deal-jus

son of a tendency to "setting"; but he would pronounce

ything," said the young man. "I'

n here before?"

ever fresh. And ho

e upstairs to get something.

r the young," Mr. Dosson

. Do you mind if I go with you?"

n the deck," she replied. "We

o the Louvre? That'

rom there: we've h

lace," the visitor a

gs but it doesn't come u

id Mr. Dosson. Then he added: "I

Miss Delia returned, swin

pace," Mr. F

e girl returned with memories of the Umbria. "I h

e in a rush. That's t

I guess," said Mr. Do

his daughter decl

often," he continued to the

d! I'll have to rus

ncie." And Francie'

ome more money!" her s

he money?" Georg

as he pushed aside the portier

ere ever called innocent!" cried D

-before I ca

it has hurt US. We ain

ou have a r

a right to be," Miss Doss

ad seated himself, l

way you us

haven't

Francie-

d Delia Dosson, beginni

elbows on the arms of his chair and his hands interl

m in a little

ey're Par

Paris. But you can

ontinued sociably. And he observed further and with the

e dearest o

an-of the old stamp,

ld you think our

hink he'd b

when we carry

y-your plans?" as

ever te

know whether you

know it if we didn

you were last year. You ke

t I want," the yo

e mysterious office under her bonnet. There was a moment's silence, after which t

I do-as a

ing to get rid of a man that

ppose you're not so ridiculous

ster, do you mea

I haven't got any oth

ther s

ou still in the same bus

get which on

o with that newspape

hat paper any more-i

nd for news-in

ple what they want. It's ha

n't some one else would. Th

present moment to interest Mr. Flack less than his own. He looked at his w

ean by that?"

s taking her time, or rather

hing with her you must give her

to that, she might have to count with his patience. But she sat there easy and empty, giving no sign and fearing no future. He was the first indee

e answer with cold gaiety. But she added more fami

he used t

, that she never looks it a

Miss Delia," the young man ventured

all there. I guess

r too much. If it wasn't for yo

o kill me first!" D

u somehow in the Reve

r calm. "Oh that's not

hey don't care anyth

ie and I," said the girl. "But we desire to

enty-five years old and had a large white face, in which the eyes were far apart. Her forehead was high but her mouth was small, her hair was light and colourless and a certain inelegant thickness of figure made her appear shorter than she was. Elegance indeed had not been her natural portion, and the Bon Marche and other establishments had to make up for that. To a casual sister's eye they would scarce have appeared to have acquitted themselves of their office, but even a woman wouldn't have guessed how little Fidelia cared. She always looked the same; all the contrivances of Paris couldn't fill out that blank,

e directed their course to Europe. This was a new departure, said Mr. Flack, or rather a new arrival: he understood that it wasn't, as he called it, the same old visit. She didn't repudiate the accusation, launched by her companion as if it might have been embarrassing, of having spent her time at home in Boston, and even in a suburban quarter of it: she confessed that as Bostonians they had been capable of that. But now they had come abroad for longer-ever so much: what they had gone home for was to make

d measurements we have smuggled into the scene would have gathered that Miss Dosson's attention was founded on a conception of Mr. Flack's intrinsic brilliancy. Would his own impression have justified that?-would he have found such a conception contagious? I forbear to ridicule the thought, for that would saddle me with the care of showing what right our officious observer might have had to his particular standard. Let us therefore simply note that George Flack had grounds for looming publicly large to an uninformed young woman. He was connected, as she supposed, with litera

his group: aversion in especial would have made you aware only of what confounded him. He was not a specific person, but had beyond even Delia Dosson, in whom we have facially noted it, the quality of the sample or advertisement, the air of representing a "line of goods" for which there is a steady popular demand. You would scarce have expected him to be individually designated: a number, like that of the day's newspaper, would have served all his, or at least all your purpose, and you would have vaguely supposed the number high-somewhere up in the millions. As every copy of the newspaper answers to its name,

ate the oddity of his having asked in particular for her, asked as if he wished to see her to the exclusion of her father and sister: the note of a special pleasure which might have implied a special relation. And yet a spectator looking from Mr. George Flack to Miss Francie Dosson would have been much at a loss to guess what special relation could exist between them. The girl was exceedingly, extraordinarily pretty, all exempt from traceable likeness to her sister; and there was a brightness in her-a still and scattered radiance-which was quite distinct from what is called animation. Rather tall than short, fine slender erect, with an airy lightness of hand and foot, she yet gave no impression of quick movement, of abundant chatter, of excitabl

down all the things. "Well, I had a fiendish hunt for them-we've got so many," Francie replied with a strange want of articulation

quired, taking the parcel from her. "You had better let me h

ancie yieldingly smiled. "They ain't r

-you can't work that game on thes

thing back," Delia Dosson declare

Mr. Flack with friendly cheer. "I

et," the girl replied. "But I hope ver

Delia loudly commented. They had passed out of the hotel and the wide vis

ck said, holding out his bundle. "I suppose they won't kill you

e answered, laughing and looking for a

otice of his observation, and Delia asked her, on the other side, whether their father had given her that money. She replied that he

to be our brother!" Francie prattled

s Delia's, if you can ma

a cab," Miss Delia returned. "I presume you an

e, which presently drew up beside the pavement. The three got into it and, still emitting innocent pleasantries, proceeded on their way,

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