It is suspected," says the Proclamation, "that, if still in the city,
he will endeavour to escape by steamer in disguise. Description."----
Which description of him was remarkable for length and scorn.
I heard the American consul say to the British consul; "I'll tell
you what that is, old man. That's a porous plaster. It has some
holes, but it's meant to cover your indecency."
That Thursday night I sat alone on the deck of the Hotel Helen Mar.
It was near ten o'clock. I saw a flamingo rise from the river, and it
flew over the _Helen Mar_, like a ghost, trailing its legs.
And the ladder creaked, and Sadler came over the side. He stepped
soft and long like a ghost.
"How do?" he says, and sat down, and twankled his banjo.
Then I asked, "Why? What for?" I says, "I don't see it," I says. "It
ain't reasonable." It was well enough for a flamingo, but a man has
responsibilities. It's not right for him to be a floating object
that's no such thing. He's got no business to be impossible, unless
he explains himself. I stated that opinion pretty sharp, but Sadler
was calm.
"Irish hooked the _Harvest Moon_" he says, "and lay outside for
the steamer.
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