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The Right of Way, Volume 1.

Chapter 3 AFTER FIVE YEARS

Word Count: 1051    |    Released on: 06/12/2017

e forgot

was serenely non-committ

remember

hen the humour of the impertinence worked upon him, and h

marked Charley, with an outstretched hand. "M

sermons, and you know it well enough." He laughed, but it was a hard sort of mirth. "Perhaps

ley touched the corners of his mouth with his tongue, as though his lips we

curse," rejoine

neous humour lying for ever behind his thoughts than his eye-glass was the real sight of his eyes, though since childhood this laugh and hi

eyes on the ruddy cheeks of his old friend. "Do they call y

mouth, and the eyes wandered to the doorway down the street, over which was written in Frenc

avely to Charley, glanced at John Brown, turned colour slightl

," said the aforetime f

say: 'There, but for be

Bro

own at last beneath his agnostic raillery, Charley's blue eye did no

ays said-who knows! Th

had gone all the warmth of manhood, all that courage of life which keeps men young. The lean parchment visage

ch," John B

t la

senic-mine on

ile

e hopes yet. I've kept

you goin

, perhaps; I've not

igarette-case, his eyes turning slowly from the startled, gloomy face of the man before him,

was behind his blue eye- one ceaseless interrogation. It was that everlasting questioning, the ceaseless who knows! which had in the end unsettled John Brown's mind, and driven him at last from the church and the possible gaiters of a dean into th

ithout a word they crossed the street, entered the saloon, and passed to a little back room, Ch

e strangers said to the other: "What does he come here for, if he's too pro

ast," said the other. "

landlord. "It is not harm to him. He drink a

s city. If I was him, I'd think more

ein? You not come dow

o your saloon, and I w

shebang at the

tanding beside the landlord. "Oh, I like Charlemagne's hotel, and I li

e's hotel, and talk som

ill lose dat glass out

Goss

magne talk'bout him ever since. When dat Narcisse Bovin and Jacques Gravel come down de river, he better keep

ass of white whiskey, and threw

teele," said Jean Jolicoeur, and turne

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