And now his strength, his aspirations, his vanity, and his intellect were
roused together to the highest activity of which they were capable, the
hour having come for which he had longed through half his lifetime, and
though it was but the first trial, in which he might fail, it had for him
all the importance of the supreme crisis of his existence. No wonder that
his face was pale and his lips set as he walked back to his lodgings from
the telegraph office. As he walked down the hill by the railings of the
Common he came upon Josephine Thorn, standing at the entrance of one of
the boarded walks, as though hesitating whether to go in. He was close to
her as he bowed, and something in her face made him stop.
"Good morning, Miss Thorn," he said. She nodded gravely and hesitated. He
was about to go on, thinking she was in one of those moods which he called
capricious. But she stopped him.
"Mr. Harrington, I want to speak to you," she said quickly, seeing that
her opportunity was on the point of slipping away.
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