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Leacock, Stephen, 1869-1944

"Frenzied Fiction"

I didn't know till a week before that
my brother-in-law--He is not listening. He has moved
away. I will stand and wait till he comes back. I am
intruding here; I had no right to disturb these people
like this.
Oh, I can have a room at eleven o'clock. When it is
which?--is vacated. Oh, yes, I see, when the man in it
gets up and goes away. I didn't for the minute catch on
to what the word--He has stopped listening.
Never mind, I can wait. From eight to eleven is only
three hours, anyway. I will move about here and look at
things. If I keep moving they will notice me less. Ha!
books and news papers and magazines--what a stack of
them! Like a regular book-store. I will stand here and
take a look at some of them. Eh! what's that? Did I want
to _buy_ anything? Well, no, I hadn't exactly--I was
just--Oh, I see, they're on _sale_. All right, yes, give
me this one--fifty cents--all right--and this and these
others. That's all right, miss, I'm not stingy. They
always say of me up in our town that when I--She has
stopped listening.
Never mind. I will walk up and down again with the
magazines under my arm. That will make people think I
live here. Better still if I could put the magazines in
my satchel.


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