It surprised him therefore to find how strongly this
commonplace, 'longshore spot appealed to his imagination. He liked it
and wondered why.
Of course the liking might come from the contrast between the rest and
freedom he was now experiencing and the fevered chase led him at the
mountain hotel where Mrs. Worth Buckley and her lion-hunting sisters
had their habitat. Thought of the pestilential Buckley female set him
to contrasting her affectations with the kind-hearted and wholehearted
simplicity of his present hostess, Miss Martha Phipps. It was something
of a contrast. Mrs. Buckley was rich and sophisticated and--in her own
opinion--cultured to the highest degree. Now Miss Phipps was, in all
probability, not rich and she would not claim wide culture. As to her
sophistication--well, Galusha gave little thought to that, in most
worldly matters he himself was unsophisticated. However, he was sure
that he liked Miss Phipps and that he loathed Mrs. Buckley. And he liked
East Wellmouth, bareness and bleakness and lonesomeness and all.
He rather wished he were going to stay there for a long time--weeks
perhaps, months it might be; that is, of course, provided he could
occupy his present quarters and eat at the Phipps' table. If he could do
that why--why... humph!
Instead of lying down he sat by that window for more than half an
hour thinking.
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