So deeply abstracted was he that he started to find Mrs. Trapes
regarding him with her sharp, bright eyes.
"Mr. Geoffrey, here's a cup o' beef tea as I've prepared with my own
hand--"
"But where's--"
"She's gone t' bed. Here's a cup o' beef tea as is stiff with
nourishment, so get it into your system good an' quick."
"Gone to bed--"
"She says it's a headache, o' course--drink it down while it's hot--but
I reckon it's more 'n a headache--yes, sir. A while back I says t'
you--'woo her,' I says, Mr. Geoffrey. I now says--let her alone awhile.
The poor child's all wore out--it's nerves as is the matter with her, I
reckon. So, Mr. Ravenslee, be patient, this ain't no wooin' time; it's
rest she needs an' change of air--"
"Why, then, Mrs. Trapes, she shall have them!"
CHAPTER XXXVII
THE WOES OF MR. BRIMBERLY
Mr. Brimberly, having dined well as was his custom, lay at his ease
in a luxurious lounge chair in the shade of the piazza; the day was hot,
wherefore on a table at his elbow was a syphon, a bottle, and a long
glass in which ice tinkled alluringly; between his plump fingers was a
large cigar and across his plump knees was an open paper over which he
yawned and puffed and sipped in turn.
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