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Freeman, R. Austin (Richard Austin), 1862-1943

"The Vanishing Man"

A great unrest was upon me; and when I received a
letter from Dick Barnard announcing his arrival at Madeira, homeward
bound, I breathed a sigh of relief. I had no plans for the future, but I
longed to be rid of the, now irksome, routine of the practice--to be
free to come and go when and how I pleased.
One evening, as I sat consuming with little appetite my solitary supper,
there fell on me a sudden sense of loneliness. The desire that I had
hitherto felt to be alone with my own miserable reflections gave place
to a yearning for human companionship. That, indeed, which I craved for
most was forbidden, and I must abide by my lady's wishes; but there were
my friends in the Temple. It was more than a week since I had seen them;
in fact, we had not met since the morning of that unhappiest day of my
life. They would be wondering what had become of me. I rose from the
table, and, having filled my pouch from a tin of tobacco, set forth for
King's Bench Walk.
As I approached the entry of No. 5A in the gathering darkness I met
Thorndyke himself emerging, encumbered with two deck-chairs, a
reading-lantern, and a book.


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