"Everybody is saying," he said, "that the Prime Minister has made
the greatest speech of his life. Peroration and loud and prolonged
cheers. Corrupt financiers and heroic peasants. We will not desert
Denmark again."
Fisher nodded and turned away toward the towing path, where he saw
the duke returning with a rather dazed expression. In answer to
questions he said, in a husky and confidential voice:
"I really think our poor friend cannot be himself. He refused to
listen; he--ah--suggested that I might frighten the fish."
A keen ear might have detected a murmur from Mr. Fisher on the
subject of a white hat, but Sir John Harker struck it more
decisively:
"Fisher was quite right. I didn't believe it myself, but it's quite
clear that the old fellow is fixed on this fishing notion by now. If
the house caught fire behind him he would hardly move till sunset."
Fisher had continued his stroll toward the higher embanked ground of
the towing path, and he now swept a long and searching gaze, not
toward the island, but toward the distant wooded heights that were
the walls of the valley. An evening sky as clear as that of the
previous day was settling down all over the dim landscape, but
toward the west it was now red rather than gold; there was scarcely
any sound but the monotonous music of the river.
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