CHITS AND CATS
At last he become a known visitor at the counters of shipping-clerks, and between-times, a solitary sitter in the hotel garden. He felt both silly and desperate; but at least that ill-sorted trio should not sail down the Me-nam unobserved.
On a hot, lonesome day, as he sat on the little platform which, from the shade of high-arched, breezy almond trees, looks across the racing copper flood to the teak-mills, he was roused by a heavy step and a cheerful hail:
"Oh, there you are, eh?" Borkman, clothed in white, resplendent with gold tical buttons, sat down and grinned across the white-painted disc of the little tin table.
"Looking for you all over, Mr. Scarlett," he said. "Nice hotel this—I'm staying at a livelier place, though, myself, if you understand me. Go up to their house every morning and
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