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Lewis, Sinclair, 1885-1951

"Our Mr. Wrenn, the Romantic Adventures of a Gentle Man"

They look like umbrellas upside down in a silly
wash-basin. Uff! It's terrible. _Affreux!_ Don't act as though
you liked them. You really needn't, you know. Can't you see
now that they're hideously out of drawing?"
Mr. Wrenn's fancy was walking down a green lane of old France
toward a white cottage with orange-trees gleaming against its
walls. In her pictures he had found the land of all his
forsaken dreams.
"I--I--I--" was all he could say, but admiration pulsed in it.
"Thank you.... Yes, we _will_ play. Good night. To-morrow!"



CHAPTER IX
HE ENCOUNTERS THE INTELLECTUALS


He wanted to find a cable office, stalk in, and nonchalantly
send to his bank for more money. He could see himself doing it.
Maybe the cable clerk would think he was a rich American. What
did he care if he spent all he had? A guy, he admonished
himself, just had to have coin when he was goin' with a girl
like Miss Istra. At least seven times he darted up from the
door-step, where he was on watch for her, and briskly trotted as
far as the corner.


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