Author: Upton Sinclair
Release Date: April, 2004 [EBook #5421] [Yes,
we are more than one year ahead of schedule] [This
file was first posted on July 14, 2002]
Edition: 10
Language: English
Character set encoding: ASCII
*** Start of the project gutenberg
EBOOK the metropolis ***
This eBook was created by Charles Aldarondo (pg@aldarondo.net).
BY
FIRST PUBLISHED 1908
“Return at ten-thirty,” the General said
to his chauffeur, and then they entered the corridor
of the hotel.
Montague gazed about him, and found himself trembling
just a little with anticipation. It was not the
magnificence of the place. The quiet uptown hotel
would have seemed magnificent to him, fresh as he
was from the country; but, he did hot see the marblo
columns and the gilded carvings-he was thinking of
the men he was to meet. It seemed too much to
crowd into one day-first the vision of the whirling,
seething city, the centre of all his hopes of the future;
and then, at night, this meeting, overwhelming him
with the crowded memories of everything that he held
precious in the past.
There were groups of men in faded uniforms standing
about in the corridors. General Prentice bowed
here and there as they retired and took the elevator
to the reception-rooms. In the doorway they passed
a stout little man with stubby white moustaches, and
the General stopped, exclaiming, “Hello, Major!”
Then he added: “Let me introduce Mr. Allan
Montague. Montague, this is Major Thorne.”
A look of sudden interest flashed across the Major’s
face. “General Montague’s son?”
he cried. And then he seized the other’s
hand in both of his, exclaiming, “My boy! my
boy! I’m glad to see you!”
Now Montague was no boy—he was a man of
thirty, and rather sedate in his appearance and manner;
there was enough in his six feet one to have made
two of the round and rubicund little Major. And
yet it seemed to him quite proper that the other should
address him so. He was back in his boyhood to-night—he
was a boy whenever anyone mentioned the name of Major
Thorne.
“Perhaps you have heard your father speak of
me?” asked the Major, eagerly; and Montague
answered, “A thousand times.”
He was tempted to add that the vision that rose before
him was of a stout gentleman hanging in a grape-vine,
while a whole battery of artillery made him their
target.
