You'll find him as dull
as ditch-water."
"Has he big blonde side-whiskers like tusks?" I asked,
mindful of the photograph of Goddedaal.
"Certainly not; why should he?" was the reply.
"Does he write many letters?" I continued.
"God knows," said Stennis.--" What is wrong with you? I
never saw you taken this way before."
"The fact is, I think I know the man," said I. "I
think I'm looking for him. I rather think he is my
long-lost brother."
"Not twins, anyway," returned Stennis.
And about the same time, a carriage driving up to the
inn, he took his departure.
I walked till dinner-time in the plain, keeping to the
fields; for I instinctively shunned observation, and
was racked by many incongruous and impatient feelings.
Here was a man whose voice I had once heard, whose
doings had filled so many days of my life with interest
and distress, whom I had lain awake to dream of like a
lover, and now his hand was on the door; now we were to
meet; now I was to learn at last the mystery of the
substituted crew. The sun went down over the plain of
the Angelus, and as the hour approached my courage
lessened.
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