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Conrad, Joseph, 1857-1924

"Victory"

Jones.
"Not downright plain, sir?"
"No. I wished you had been here. You loaf all the morning, and now you
come in out of breath. What's the matter?"
"I haven't been wasting my time out there," said Ricardo. "Nothing's the
matter. I--I--might have hurried a bit." He was in truth still panting;
only it was not with running, but with the tumult of thoughts and
sensations long repressed, which had been set free by the adventure of
the morning. He was almost distracted by them now. He forgot himself in
the maze of possibilities threatening and inspiring. "And so you had a
long talk?" he said, to gain time.
"Confound you! The sun hasn't affected your head, has it? Why are you
staring at me like a basilisk?"
"Beg pardon, sir. Wasn't aware I stared," Ricardo apologized
good-humouredly. "The sun might well affect a thicker skull than mine.
It blazes. Phew! What do you think a fellow is, sir--a salamander?"
"You ought to have been here," observed Mr. Jones.
"Did the beast give any signs of wanting to prance?" asked Ricardo
quickly, with absolutely genuine anxiety. "It wouldn't do, sir. You must
play him easy for at least a couple of days, sir. I have a plan. I have
a notion that I can find out a lot in a couple of days."
"You have? In what way?"
"Why, by watching," Ricardo answered slowly.
Mr Jones grunted.


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