One could sit quite calmly
beside him while he pulled at the reins of a pair of
runaway horses, knowing that he would conquer them in the
end.
Just when my face began to feel as stiff and glazed
as a mummy's, we swung off the roadway and up to the
entrance of the road-house that was to revive us with things
hot and soupy.
"Another minute," I said, through stiff lips, as I
extricated myself from my swathings, "and I should have
been what Mr. Mantalini described as a demnition body.
For pity's sake, tell 'em the soup can't be too hot nor
too steaming for your lady friend. I've had enough fresh
air to last me the remainder of my life. May I timidly
venture to suggest that a cheese sandwich follow the
oyster stew? I am famished, and this place looks as
though it might make a speciality of cheese sandwiches."
"By all means a cheese sandwich. Und was noch? That
fresh air it has given you an appetite, nicht wahr?" But
there was no sign of a smile on his face, nor was the
kindly twinkle of amusement to be seen in his eyes--that
twinkle that I had learned to look for.
"Smile for the lady," I mockingly begged when we had
been served. "You've been owlish all the afternoon.
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