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Davis, Richard Harding, 1864-1916

"Gallegher and Other Stories"


"Oh, I think it must be for me," she said; "I'm quite sure it is
intended for me. I was at his office to-day, you see, to return him
some keepsake of his that I found in an old curiosity shop. Something
with his name on it that had been stolen from him and pawned. It was
just a trifle. You needn't go down, dear; I'll see him. It was I he
asked for, I'm sure; was it not, Morris?"
Morris was not quite sure; being such an old gentleman, he thought it
must be for Mr. Catherwaight he'd come.
Mr. Catherwaight was not greatly interested. He did not like to
disturb his after-dinner nap, and he settled back in his chair again
and refolded his hands.
"I hardly thought he could have come to see me," he murmured,
drowsily; "though I used to see enough and more than enough of Lewis
Lockwood once, my dear," he added with a smile, as he opened his eyes
and nodded before he shut them again. "That was before your mother and
I were engaged, and people did say that young Lockwood's chances at
that time were as good as mine. But they weren't, it seems. He was
very attentive, though; _very_ attentive."
Miss Catherwaight stood startled and motionless at the door from which
she had turned.


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