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The Devil's Garden by W. B. Maxwell
page 15 of 456 (03%)
respond to these hinted invitations.

"If you tell me to speak frankly," he said at last, "I should have a
doubt that you've made this one false step. You haven't kept
everything in proportion."

"How do you mean?"

"Well, I mean it strikes me--quite unbiased, you know--that you've let
Number One overshadow the situation. You've drawn it all too personal
to yourself."

"I don't see that," said Dale, forcibly, almost hotly. "It's the
principle I stand for--pretty near as much as for myself."

"Ah, yes, just so," said Mr. Ridgett. "And now I'm going to ask you to
help me find a bedroom somewhere handy, and put me up to knowing where
I'd best get my meals;" and he laughed cheerfully. "Don't think I'm
_establishing_ myself--but one may as well be comfortable, if one can.
And I do give you this tip. You're in for what we used to call the
devil's dance up there. Cæsar is a slow mover. I mean, it won't be
'Step this way, Mr. Dale. Walk in this minute.' They'll keep you on
the dance. I should take all you're likely to want for a week--at the
least."

Dale made arrangements for the future comfort of the visitor, and
hospitably insisted that he should take his first substantial meal
up-stairs.

"It's served at seven sharp," said Dale; "and we make it a meat tea;
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