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Frederic, Harold, 1856-1898

"The Market-Place"


His manner with the waiters was abrupt and sharp,
but undoubtedly they served him very well--much better,
in truth, than Thorpe had ever seen them serve anybody before.
Thorpe observed his guest a good deal during the repast,
and formed numerous conclusions about him. He ate with
palpable relish of every dish, and he emptied his glass
as promptly as his host could fill it. There was hardly
a word of explanation as to the purpose of their meeting,
until the coffee was brought, and they pushed back
their chairs, crossed their legs, and lighted cigars.
"I was lucky to catch you with my wire, at such short notice,"
Thorpe said then. "I sent two, you know--to your chambers
and your club. Which of them found you?"
"Chambers," said the General. "I rarely dress till
luncheon time. I read in bed. There's really nothing
else to do. Idleness is the curse of my life."
"I've been wondering if you'd like a little occupation--
of a well-paid sort," said Thorpe slowly. He realized
that it was high time to invent some pretext for his
hurried summons of the General.
"My dear sir," responded the other, "I should like anything
that had money in it. And I should very much like occupation,
too--if it were, of course, something that was--was suitable to me."
"Yes," said Thorpe, meditatively.


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