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Henry, O., 1862-1910

"Whirligigs"


"Please leave me here as usual to-night," said Norah, sweetly. "I
must--I would rather you would. You will not object? At six
to-morrow evening I will meet you at Antonio's. I want to sit with
you there once more. And then--I will go where you say." She gave
him a bewildering, bright smile, and walked swiftly away.
Surely it needed all the strength of her charm to carry off this
astounding behaviour. It was no discredit to Lorison's strength of
mind that his head began to whirl. Pocketing his hands, he rambled
vacuously over to the druggist's windows, and began assiduously to
spell over the names of the patent medicines therein displayed.
As soon as be had recovered his wits, he proceeded along the street in
an aimless fashion. After drifting for two or three squares, he
flowed into a somewhat more pretentious thoroughfare, a way much
frequented by him in his solitary ramblings. For here was a row of
shops devoted to traffic in goods of the widest range of choice--
handiworks of art, skill and fancy, products of nature and labour from
every zone.
Here, for a time, he loitered among the conspicuous windows, where was
set, emphasized by congested floods of light, the cunningest spoil of
the interiors. There were few passers, and of this Lorison was glad.


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