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1. A Remarkable Man!
It was not my husband speaking, but some passerby. However, I looked up at
George with a smile, and found him looking down at me with much the same
humour. We had often spoken of the odd phrases one hears in the street, and
how interesting it would be sometimes to hear a little more of the conversation.
"That's a case in point," he laughed, as he guided me through the crowd of
theatre-goers which invariably block this part of Broadway at the hour of eight.
"We shall never know whose eulogy we have just heard. 'A remarkable man!'
There are not many of them."
"No," was my somewhat indifferent reply. It was a keen winter night and snow
was packed upon the walks in a way to throw into sharp relief the figures of such
pedestrians as happened to be walking alone. "But it seems to me that, so far as
general appearance goes, the one in front answers your description most
I pointed to a man hurrying around the corner just ahead of us.
"Yes, he's remarkably well built. I noticed him when he came out of the
Clermont." This was a hotel we had just passed.
"But it's not only that. It's his height, his very striking features, his expression--" I
stopped suddenly, gripping George's arm convulsively in a surprise he appeared
to share. We had turned the corner immediately behind the man of whom we
were speaking and so had him still in full view.
"What's he doing?" I asked, in a low whisper. We were only a few feet behind.
"Look! look! don't you call that curious?"
My husband stared, then uttered a low, "Rather." The man ahead of us,
presenting in every respect the appearance of a gentleman, had suddenly
stooped to the kerb and was washing his hands in the snow, furtively, but with a