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fire as she handed the dispatch to her m other and bitterly said,
"The world is against me. Well, let it be, let it. I am against it."
"
This is a cruel disappointment," said Mrs. Hawkins, to whom one grief
more or less did not much matter now, "to you and, Washington; but we
must humbly bear it."
"Bear it;" replied Laura scornfully, "I've all my life borne it, and fate
has thwarted me at every step."
A servant came to the door to say that there was a gentleman below who
wished to speak with Miss Hawkins. "J. Adolphe Griller" was the name
Laura read on the card. "I do not know such a person. He probably comes
from Washington. Send him up."
Mr. Griller entered. He was a small man, slovenly in dress, his tone
confidential, his manner wholly void of animation, all his features below
the forehead protruding--particularly the apple of his throat--hair
without a kink in it, a hand with no grip, a meek, hang-dog countenance.
a falsehood done in flesh and blood; for while every visible sign about
him proclaimed him a poor, witless, useless weakling, the truth was that
he had the brains to plan great enterprises and the pluck to carry them
through. That was his reputation, and it was a deserved one. He softly
said:
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