Having traveled all
the night previous, he went home and slept a sounder sleep than falls to
the lot of most jilted lovers.
The next day he rose early and "did" Boston. It did not take him long, and
he said to himself that half of it was very jolly, and half of it was too
utterly beastly for anything. The Common, and the Gardens, and
Commonwealth Avenue, you know, were rather pretty, and must have cost a
deuce of a lot of money in this country; but as for the State House, and
Paul Revere's Church, and the Old South, and the city generally, why, it
was simply disgusting, all that, you know. And in the afternoon he went to
see Sybil Brandon, and began talking about what he had seen.
She was, if anything, more beautiful than ever, and as she looked at him,
and held out her hand with a friendly greeting, Ronald felt himself
actually blushing, and Sybil saw it and blushed too, a very little. Then
they sat down by the window where there were plants, and they looked out
at the snow and the people passing.
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