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Locke, William John, 1863-1930

"Simon the Jester"


Eleanor played with the silky ears of Agatha's little Yorkshire terrier
which had somehow strayed into the room and taken possession of her lap.
"Don't you see, Simon?" she said at last, half tearfully, without taking
her eyes off the dog, "don't you see that by accusing me in this way
you make it almost impossible for me to speak? And I was going to be so
loyal to you."
A tear fell down her cheek on to the dog's back, and convicted me of
unmitigated brutality.
"What else could you be but loyal?" I murmured. "Your attitude all
through has shone it."
She flashed her hand angrily over her eyes, and looked at me. "And I
wanted to be loyal to the end. If you had waited and she had waited, you
would have seen. As soon as I could have conveyed it to you decently, I
should have shown you----Ah!" She broke off, put the Yorkshire terrier
on the sofa beside her, and rose with an impatient gesture. "You want to
know why I called on Lola Brandt? I felt I had to know for myself what
kind of woman she was.


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