Chapter 36
In due time Laura alighted at the book store, and began to look at the titles of the handsome array of books on the counter. A dapper clerk of perhaps nineteen or twenty years, with hair accurately parted and surprisingly slick, came bustling up and leaned over with a pretty smile and an affable-- "Can I--was there any particular book you wished to see?" "Have you Taine's England?" "Beg pardon?" "Taine's Notes on England." The young gentleman scratched the side of his nose with a cedar pencil which he took down from its bracket on the side of his head, and reflected a moment: "Ah--I see," [with a bright smile]--"Train, you mean--not Taine. George Francis Train. No, ma'm we--" "I mean Taine--if I may take the liberty." The clerk reflected again--then: "Taine . . . . Taine . . . . I
- Writer
