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Harte, Bret, 1836-1902

"The Story of a Mine"

They did so for years, but it cost him ten thousand dollars and
no end of trouble after all."
"Why?" asked Thatcher simply.
"Because he was such an egotistical ass as TO KEEP THE LETTER PROPOSING
IT, which she had duly returned, among his papers as a sentimental
record. Of course somebody eventually found it."
"Good night," said Thatcher, rising abruptly. "If I stayed here much
longer I should begin to disbelieve my own mother."
"I have known of such hereditary traits," returned Harlowe with a laugh.
"But come, you must not go without the champagne." He led the way to the
adjacent room, which proved to be only the ante-chamber of another, on
the threshold of which Thatcher stopped with genuine surprise. It was an
elegantly furnished library.
"Sybarite! Why was I never here before?"
"Because you came as a client; to-night you are my guest. All who enter
here leave their business, with their hats, in the hall. Look; there
isn't a law book on those shelves; that table never was defaced by a
title deed or parchment.


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