Read "Lavengro" by George Borrow online for free on Textopian. Full text with search, annotations, highlights, and AI-powered reading aids.
It never rains but it pours. I was destined to see at this inn more acquaintances than one. On the day of Francis Ardry's departure, shortly after he had taken leave of me, as I was standing in the corn-chamber, at a kind of writing-table or desk, fastened to the wall, with a book before me, in which I was making out an account of the corn and hay lately received and distributed, my friend the postillion came running in out of breath. "Here they both are," he gasped out; "pray do come and look at them."
"Whom do you mean? " said I.