[The Black Prophet: A Tale Of Irish Famine by William Carleton]@TWC D-Link book
The Black Prophet: A Tale Of Irish Famine

CHAPTER XXXI
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Ha, ha, ha!" "Very good, Charley; but I'm sick; and I very much fear that I've caught this confounded typhus." The next day being that on which the trial took place, he rose not from his bed; and when the time appointed for meeting Travers came he was not at all in anything of an improved condition.

His gig was got ready, however, and, accompanied by Hanlon, he drove to the agent's office.
Travers was a quick, expert man of business, who lost but little time and few words in his dealings with the world.

He was clear, rapid, and decisive, and having once formed an opinion, there was scarcely any possibility in changing it.

This, indeed, was the worst and most impracticable point about him; for as it often happened that his opinions were based upon imperfect or erroneous data, it consequently followed that his inflexibility was but another name for obstinacy, and not unfrequently for injustice.
As Henderson entered the office, he met our friend the pedlar and old Dalton going out.
"Dalton," said Travers, "do you and your friend stay in the next room; I wish to see you again before you go.

How do you do, Henderson ?" "I am not well," replied Henderson, "not at all well; but it won't signify." "How is your father ?" "Much as usual: I wonder he didn't call on you." "No, he did not, I suppose he's otherwise engaged--the assizes always occupy him.


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