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Locke, William John, 1863-1930

"Simon the Jester"

Eleanor rose in alarm.
"How the time has flown! I must be getting back. Well?"
Our eyes met. "Well?" said I.
"Are we ever to meet again?"
"It's for you to say."
"No," she said. And then very distinctly, very deliberately, "It's for
you."
I understood. She made the offer simply, nobly, unreservedly. My heart
was filled with great gratitude. She was so true, so loyal, so thorough.
Why could I not take her at her word? I murmured:
"I'll remember what you say."
She put out her hand. "Good-bye!"
"Good-bye and God bless you!" I said.
I accompanied her to the front door, hailed a passing cab, and waited
till she had driven off. Was there ever a sweeter, grander, more loyal
woman? The three little words had changed the current of my being.
I returned to take leave of Agatha. I found her in the drawing-room
reading a novel. She twisted her head sideways and regarded me with a
bird-like air of curiosity.
"Eleanor gone?"
Her tone jarred on me. I nodded and dropped into a chair.
"Interview passed off satisfactorily?"
"We were quite comfortable, thank you.


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