He shut his eyes, laid his cheek on one
hand, and gave a groan of intense disgust, followed by certain gleeful
chuckles, made the more expressive by the sly jerking of his thumb
towards the dining room door and the bobbing up and down of his
fore-finger in the direction of the bedroom above.
"Bofe in. Yes, sah! Bofe in, an' bofe abed. Last I yeard from em' dey
was hollerin' for juleps."
I entered the dining-room and stopped short. On a low sofa at the far
end of the room lay a man of more than ordinary girth, with coat, vest,
and shoes off, his face concealed by a newspaper. From beneath this
sheet came, at regular intervals, a long-drawn sound like the subdued
puff of a tired locomotive at rest on a side-track. Beside him was an
empty tumbler, decorated with a broken straw and a spray of withered
mint.
The summer air fanned through the closed blinds of the darkened room,
and played with the silvery locks that straggled over the white pillow;
the paper rose and fell with a crinkling noise, keeping time to the
rhythm of the exhaust.
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