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on the platform of Euston; looking so prosperous and solid。 It was not only the flesh that he had put on; but also the clothes; that made him hard to recognize。 In the old days; an imitation fur coat had seemed to be as integral a part of him as were his ill…shorn lantern jaws。 But now his costume was a model of rich and somber moderation; drawing; not calling; attention to itself。 He looked like a banker。 Any one could have been proud to be seen off by him。
“Stand back; please!” The train was about to start; and I waved farewell to my friend。 Le Ros did not stand back。 He stood clasping in both hands the hands of the young American。 “Stand back; sir; please!” He obeyed; but quickly darted forward again to whisper some final word。 I think there were tears in her eyes。 There certainly were tears in his when; at length; having watched the train out of sight; he turned round。 He seemed; nevertheless; delighted to see me。 He asked me where I had been hiding all these years; and simultaneously repaid me the half…crown as though it had been borrowed yesterday。 He linked his arm in mine; and walked with me slowly along the platform; saying with what pleasure he read my dramatic criticisms every Saturday。
I told him; in return; how much he was missed on the stage。 “Ah; yes;” he said; “I never act on the stage nowadays。” He laid some emphasis on the word “stage”; and I asked him where; then; he did act。 “On the platform;” He answered。 “You mean;” said I; “that you recite at concerts?” He smiled。 “This;” he whispered; striking his stick on the ground; “is the platform I mean。” Had his mysterious prosperity unhinged him? He looked quite sane。 I begged him to be more explicit6。
“I suppose;” he said presently; giving me a light for the cigar which he had offere
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