The Albany Depot : a Farce by William Dean Howells
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page 2 of 35 (05%)
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wipe up the floor. She passes near the door where Mrs. Roberts is
standing, and Mrs. Roberts appeals to her in the anxiety which her failure to detect the object of her search has awakened: "Oh, I was just looking for my husband. He was to meet me here at ten minutes past three; but there don't seem to _be _any gentlemen." The Chorewoman: "Mem?" Mrs. Roberts: "I was just looking for my husband. He was to meet me here at ten minutes past three; but there don't seem to be any gentlemen. You haven't happened to notice--" The Chorewoman: "There's a gentleman over there beyant, readin', that's just come in. He seemed to be lukun' for somebody." She applies the mop to the floor close to Mrs. Roberts's skirts. Mrs. Roberts, bending to the right and to the left, and then, by standing on tiptoe, catching sight of a hat round a pillar: "Then it's Mr. Roberts, of course. I'll just go right over to him. Thank you ever so much. Don't disturb yourself!" She picks her way round the area of damp left by the mop, and approaches the hat from behind. "It _is_ you, Edward! What a horrid idea I had! I was just going to touch your hat from behind, for fun; but I kept myself from it in time." Roberts, looking up with a dazed air from the magazine in his hand: "Why, what would have happened?" Mrs. Roberts: "Oh, you know it mightn't have been _you_." Roberts: "But it _was_ I." |
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