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Walpole, Hugh, Sir, 1884-1941

"The Golden Scarecrow"

" So, you see, there must have been
an awful amount.
Then they went, Bim clasping his money-box in one hand and the mug in
the other. The mug was wrapped in beautiful blue paper that smelt, as we
were all afterwards to testify, of dates and spices. The crocodile
flapped against the wall, the bell tinkled, and the shop was left behind
them. "Most at once," Bim said they were by the fruit shop again; he
knew that Mr. Jack was going, and he had a sudden most urgent longing to
go with him, to stay with him, to be with him always. He wanted to cry;
he felt dreadfully unhappy, but all of his thanks, his strange desires,
that he could bring out was, in a quavering voice, trying hard, you
understand, not to cry, "Mr. Jack. Oh! Mr.----" and his friend was gone.

IV
He trotted home; with every step his pride increased. What would Lucy
say? And dim, unrealised, but forming, nevertheless, the basis for the
whole of his triumph, was his consciousness that she who had scoffed,
derided, at his "Mr. Jack," should now so absolutely benefit by him.
This was bringing together, at last, the two of them.


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