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Locke, William John, 1863-1930

"Simon the Jester"

"I know
what an infernal time you had! It must have been Gehenna. I realise
now that it was on my account, and so I can never do enough to show my
gratitude."
He finished his glass of whisky and walked about the tiny room.
"What has always licked me," he said at length, "is why she never told
me she was married. It's so curious, for she was as straight as they
make them. It's devilish odd!"
"Yes," I assented wearily, for every word of this talk was a new pain.
"Devilish odd!"
"I suppose it's a question of class again."
"Or sex," said I.
"What has sex to do with being straight?"
"Everything," said I.
"Rot!" said Dale.
I sighed. "I wish your dialectical vocabulary were not so limited."
He laughed and clapped me on the shoulder.
"Still the same old Simon. It does my heart good to hear you. May I have
another whisky?"
I took advantage of this break to change the conversation. He had
told me nothing of his own affairs save that he was engaged to Maisie
Ellerton.
"Heavens!" cried he.


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