His friendship seemed a thing worth having. “Really?” “Would not let it go. ” She wanted to feast upon him badly, his passion, his youthfulness. She softened her tone and scrambled for the right words. Talked about his years, his position and his constituents, and always sneaked off back to his hotel just when the fun was going to begin. She felt he was going to say something more—something still more personal and intimate. His business has thriven; legacies have unexpectedly dropped into his lap; and, to crown all, he has made a large fortune by a lucky speculation in South-Sea stock,—made it, too, where so many others have lost fortunes, your humble servant amongst the number—ha! ha! In a word, Sir, Mr. She was lovely, painted like the porcelain doll he had always wanted her to be.
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