MacGrath, Harold, 1871-1932 / 2008-06-29 00:00:00

EBOOK HALF A ROGUE ***


This etext was produced by Duncan Harrod.



Half A Rogue

By
Harold MacGrath

To The Memory Of My Mother


Half A Rogue


Chapter I

It was Warrington's invariable habit--when no business or social
engagement pressed him to go elsewhere--to drop into a certain quaint
little restaurant just off Broadway for his dinners. It was out of the
way; the throb and rattle of the great commercial artery became like
the far-off murmur of the sea, restful rather than annoying. He always
made it a point to dine alone, undisturbed. The proprietor nor his
silent-footed waiters had the slightest idea who Warrington was. To
them he was simply a profitable customer who signified that he dined
there in order to be alone His table was up stairs. Below, there was
always the usual dinner crowd till theater time; and the music had the
faculty of luring his thoughts astray, being, as he was, fonder of
music than of work. As a matter of fact, it was in this little
restaurant that he winnowed the day's ideas, revamped scenes, trimmed
the rough edges of his climaxes, revised this epigram or rejected this
or that line; all on the backs of envelopes and on the margins of
newspapers.
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