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Hope, Anthony, 1863-1933

"Rupert of Hentzau"

But I had one
advantage. Most folk in Strelsau knew me, and many got out of my
way who were by no means inclined to pay a like civility to
Bauer. Thus I began to gain on him, in spite of his haste; I had
started fifty yards behind, but as we neared the end of the
street and saw the station ahead of us, not more than twenty
separated me from him. Then an annoying thing happened. I ran
full into a stout old gentleman; Bauer had run into him before,
and he was standing, as people will, staring in resentful
astonishment at his first assailant's retreating figure. The
second collision immensely increased his vexation; for me it had
yet worse consequences; for when I disentangled myself, Bauer was
gone! There was not a sign of him; I looked up: the number of the
house above me was twenty-three; but the door was shut. I walked
on a few paces, past twenty-two, past twenty-one--and up to
nineteen. Nineteen was an old house, with a dirty, dilapidated
front and an air almost dissipated. It was a shop where
provisions of the cheaper sort were on view in the window, things
that one has never eaten but has heard of people eating. The
shop-door stood open, but there was nothing to connect Bauer with
the house.


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