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The Prodigal Judge by Vaughan Kester
page 255 of 508 (50%)
"You might send him writin' in a letter," he suggested.

The furious shrieking of a steam-packet's whistle broke in upon
them.

"It's another of them hawgs, wantin' all the river!" said Mr.
Cavendish, and fled in haste to the steering oar.

During all the long days that followed, Mr. Yancy was forced to
own that these titled friends of his were, despite their social
position, uncommon white in their treatment of him. The Earl of
Lambeth consorted with him in that fine spirit that recognizes
the essential brotherhood of man, while his Lady Countess was, as
Yancy observed, on the whole, a person of simple and uncorrupted
tastes. She habitually went barefoot, both as a matter of
comfort and economy, and she smoked her cob-pipe as did those
other ladies of Lincoln County who had married into far less
exalted stations than her own. He put these simple survivals
down to her native goodness of heart, which would not allow of
her succumbing to mere pride and vainglory, for he no more
doubted their narrative than they, doubted it themselves, which
was not at all.



CHAPTER XIX

THE JUDGE SEES A GHOST


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