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As he read a letter from one of the firm's customers he took it up and jabbed little holes in the leather cover of his desk. When he had several letters to sign he took up his pen and jabbed it almost viciously into the inkwell. Then before signing he jabbed it in again. Sometimes he did the thing a dozen times in succession.
It hopped right across Bertrand Ashe's foot and Meg went to pick it up and it went, plop! into Palmer Davis's inkwell. Miss Mason thought Meg did it on purpose." "What hopped?" asked Mother Blossom, mystified. "And Meg, why are you frowning so at poor Twaddles?" "He knows, all right," declared Meg wrathfully. "He put that jumping grasshopper Aunt Polly sent him in my middy blouse pocket.
He was in a fury of temper by now, and brought the flat of his heavy, strong hand down on its top, sending the inkwell and the electric stand lamp dancing upward with a bound. "And I shall do as I please!" he roared. "And it doesn't please me to pay until these men" and between the words he brought his hand down in heavy emphasis "until these men of the Cross mine prove it!
It is the most commonplace of tragedies, the heart of every man alive has been wounded in this identical fashion. A master-poet is only that wounded man among so many other bleeding folk who perversely augments his agony, and utilizes his wound as an inkwell. Presently time scars over the cut for him, as time does for all the others. He does not suffer any longer.
He told her that he wanted to get some things "for a small friend," and Susan, radiant in the joy of being with him, in the delicious bright winter sunshine, could not stay his hand when he bought the "small friend" a delightful big rough coat, which Susan obligingly tried on, and a green and blue plaid, for steamer use, a trunk, and a parasol "because it looked so pretty and silly," and in Shreve's, as they loitered about, a silver scissors and a gold thimble, a silver stamp-box and a traveler's inkwell, a little silver watch no larger than a twenty-five-cent piece, a little crystal clock, and, finally, a ring, with three emeralds set straight across it, the loveliest great bright stones that Susan had ever seen, "green for an Irish gir-rl," said Stephen.
Its appointments were markedly Chinese in character, from the singular, gold inkwell to the jade paperweight; markedly Chinese and FEMININE. A very handsome screen lay upon the floor in front of this table, and the rich carpet he noted to be disordered as if a struggle had taken place upon it. But, most singular circumstance of all, and most disturbing... there was no door to this room!
Lacy in charge. Armed with this information Tom sent off two telegrams, each reading as follows: "Look for missing diamond ring in Miss Harrow's red-ink inkwell. If found, answer at once. Thomas Rover, "Outlook Hotel, "New York City." "They were mighty funny telegrams to send," said Tom, when he rejoined his brothers in the hotel smoking room. "Perhaps they won't know what to make of them."
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