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Voynich, E. L. (Ethel Lillian), 1864-1960

"The Gadfly"

They're
a mangy, half-caste lot; negroes and Zambos
mostly. And then those horrible coolies! So at
last I got enough of that, and set off to tramp the
country at random; just wandering about, on the
chance of something turning up."
"To tramp? With that lame foot!"
He looked up with a sudden, piteous catching
of the breath.
"I--I was hungry," he said.
She turned her head a little away and rested her
chin on one hand. After a moment's silence he
began again, his voice sinking lower and lower as
he spoke:
"Well, I tramped, and tramped, till I was nearly
mad with tramping, and nothing came of it. I
got down into Ecuador, and there it was worse
than ever. Sometimes I'd get a bit of tinkering
to do,--I'm a pretty fair tinker,--or an errand to
run, or a pigstye to clean out; sometimes I
did--oh, I hardly know what. And then at last,
one day------"
The slender, brown hand clenched itself suddenly
on the table, and Gemma, raising her head,
glanced at him anxiously. His side-face was
turned towards her, and she could see a vein on
the temple beating like a hammer, with quick,
irregular strokes.


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