Ain't I showed you what
I could do in a small way? Why, I only just began. That's nothing,
I'm a soarer, Tommy, I've got visions."
I took a look at his one hard bright eye, and thought him over, and
I thought:
"You've got 'em all right, but they're slippery," and I says:
"Did you hear news of any one in Greenough?"
"Give 'em a name."
"Happen it might be the name of Pemberton," I says. "Madge Pemberton."
"There was a man in Adrian named Andrew McCulloch," he says, "that
married a girl named Pemberton from Greenough. Aye, I recollect,
Pemberton's was a hotel."
"Madge Pemberton?"
"It was that name."
I recollect it was a little cafe in Corazon, where Craney and
I sat that evening. It was thick with smoke and crowded with round
tables, at which mixed breeds of people, mostly square-shouldered
little men, were discussing the time of day and the merits of wine
--which hadn't any--in a way of excitement that you'd think they were
crying out against oppression. Each table had a tallow candle on it,
burning dim in the smoke.
I says, "Oh!"
Then Craney went on talking, but I don't know what it was about.
Then I says, "It don't suit me in Corazon," and I got up.
Pages:
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95