But,
mind you, if the stories are mighty poor I may go to sleep, and if I do
that, you might as well go to bed too, for when I once go to sleep I
never wake up till I get good and ready."
Quincy had intended after seeing a publisher to leave the manuscripts
for examination, then to take tea with his mother and sisters, and go
back to Eastborough on the five minutes past six express. But he was
prone to yield to fate, which is simply circumstances, and he accepted
his old college chum's invitation with alacrity. He could get the
opinion of an expert speedily, and that fact carried the day with him.
When they were comfortably ensconced in their easy-chairs on the top
floor, and the cigars lighted, Quincy commenced reading. Leopold had
previously shown him his suite, which consisted of a parlor, or rather a
sitting-room, a library, which included principally the works of
standard authors and reference books, his sleeping apartment, and a
bathroom.
There was a large bed lounge in the sitting-room, and Quincy determined
to read every story in his carpet bag, if it took him all night.
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