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McCutcheon, George Barr, 1866-1928

"Brewster's Millions"

He was beginning
to see the dark side of this enforced idleness. His blood again
was tingling with the desire to be back in the harness of a
spendthrift.
"To work?" laughed the physician. "And what is your occupation,
pray?"
"Making other people rich," responded Brewster, soberly.
"Well, aren't you satisfied with what you have done for me? If you
are as charitable as that you must be still pretty sick. Be
careful, and you may be on your feet again in five or six weeks."
Harrison came in as Lotless left. Peggy smiled at him from the
window. She had been reading aloud from a novel so garrulous that
it fairly cried aloud for interruptions.
"Now, Nopper, what became of the ball I was going to give?"
demanded Monty, a troubled look in his eyes.
"Why, we called it off," said "Nopper," in surprise.
"Don't you remember, Monty?" asked Peggy, looking up quickly, and
wondering if his mind had gone trailing off.
"I know we didn't give it, of course; but what date did you hit
upon?"
"We didn't postpone it at all," said "Nopper." "How could we? We
didn't know whether--I mean it wouldn't have been quite right to
do that sort of thing.


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