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Frederic, Harold, 1856-1898

"The Market-Place"

The injunction seemed meaningless
to her until she perceived, over by the water, several gulls
lazily wheeling about. They were almost as grey as the
fog they circled in. Suddenly they seemed to perceive
her in turn, and, swerving sharply, came floating
toward the hotel, with harsh, almost menacing cries.
She hurried in, and shut the window with decision.
It seemed to her that the smile with which, as she turned,
she was able to meet her uncle's look, was a product
of true heroism.
Apparently this smile did not altogether delude him.
"Oh, now, you mustn't get down on your luck,"
he adjured her. "We're going to be awfully cozy here.
Have you seen your room? It's just there, in a little alley
to the right of the door. They say it has an even finer
view than these windows. Oh, you needn't laugh--this is
the best view in the world, I'm told by those who know.
And as a winter-resort, why----"
"I say, look here!" The interruption came from Alfred,
who, having gone out on one of the balconies, put in
his head now to summon them. "Come here! Here's some fun."
He pointed out to Thorpe the meaning of the inscription
on the sign, and then pulled him forward to observe its
practical defiance. A score of big gulls were flapping
and dodging in excited confusion close before them,
filling their ears with a painful clamour.


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