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"The Wrong Box"


'A new man, I declare!' he cried. 'When I give you the windowglass
spectacles I have in my pocket, you'll be the beau-ideal of a French
commercial traveller.'
Pitman did not reply, but continued to gaze disconsolately on his image
in the glass.
'Do you know,' asked Michael, 'what the Governor of South Carolina said
to the Governor of North Carolina? "It's a long time between drinks,"
observed that powerful thinker; and if you will put your hand into the
top left-hand pocket of my ulster, I have an impression you will find a
flask of brandy. Thank you, Pitman,' he added, as he filled out a glass
for each. 'Now you will give me news of this.'
The artist reached out his hand for the water-jug, but Michael arrested
the movement.
'Not if you went upon your knees!' he cried. 'This is the finest liqueur
brandy in Great Britain.'
Pitman put his lips to it, set it down again, and sighed.
'Well, I must say you're the poorest companion for a holiday!' cried
Michael. 'If that's all you know of brandy, you shall have no more of
it; and while I finish the flask, you may as well begin business.


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