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Locke, William John, 1863-1930

"Simon the Jester"

What would be the use of reproaching him? He
would only sit down on the floor and weep. So I paced the room, while he
followed me with his eyes like an uncertain spaniel.
"Look here, Professor," said I at last. "Now that you've found Captain
Vauvenarde, brought Madame Brandt and him together, and told me that she
is in love with me, don't you think you've done enough? Don't you think
your cats need your attention? Something terrible may be happening to
them. I dreamed last night," I added with desperate mendacity, "that
they were turned into woolly lambs."
"Monsieur," said the dwarf loftily, "my duty is here. And I care not
whether my cats are turned into the angels of Paradise."
I groaned. "You are wasting a great deal of money over this affair," I
urged.
"What is money to my gigantic combinations?"
"Tell me," I cried with considerable impatience. "What are your
confounded combinations?"
He began to tremble violently. "I would rather die," said he, "than
betray my secret."
"It's all some silly nonsense about that wretched horse!" I exclaimed.


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