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Whitman, Walt, 1819-1892

"Complete Prose Works Specimen Days and Collect, November Boughs and Goodbye My Fancy"

"
"But I _must_ speak to you," rejoined Philip sternly, "at least I must
say one thing, and that is, Mr. Covert, that you are a villain!"
"Insolent!" exclaimed the lawyer, rising behind the table, and
pointing to the door. "Do you see that, sir? Let one minute longer
find you the other side, or your feet may reach the landing by quicker
method. Begone, sir!"
Such a threat was the more harsh to Philip, for he had rather
high-strung feelings of honor. He grew almost livid with suppress'd
agitation.
"I will see you again very soon," said he, in a low but distinct
manner, his lips trembling as he spoke; and left the office.
The incidents of the rest of that pleasant summer day left little
impression on the young man's mind. He roam'd to and fro without any
object or destination. Along South street and by Whitehall, he watch'd
with curious eyes the movements of the shipping, and the loading
and unloading of cargoes; and listen'd to the merry heave-yo of
the sailors and stevedores. There are some minds upon which great
excitement produces the singular effect of uniting two utterly
inconsistent faculties--a sort of cold apathy, and a sharp
sensitiveness to all that is going on at the same time. Philip's was
one of this sort; he noticed the various differences in the apparel
of a gang of wharf-laborers--turn'd over in his brain whether they
receiv'd wages enough to keep them comfortable, and their families
also--and if they had families or not, which he tried to tell by their
looks.


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