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Charlie, Charlie!" she cried, wringing her hands, "it's heart-rending to see him he can't even feed himself, and he'll never be able to work again!" "Don't grieve, Cad," said Charlie, with an effort to suppress his own tears; "I'm almost a man now," continued he, drawing himself up "don't be afraid, I'll take care of you all!" Thus conversing, they reached Mr. Walters's.
This morning the carpenter tied him in my yard as usual; but some time during the forenoon, in a fit of rage at his confinement, he pulled the collar over his head and was gone. Whither and how long no one knew; but it seems that at last, by dint of fences and trees, he attained to the unapproachable distinction of standing on the comb of Mrs. Walters's house poor Mrs.
"Say, I'm going to stick to you, Andy." Walters's voice broke into his reverie. "I'm going to appoint you the corps of interpreters." Andrews laughed. "D'you know the way to the School Headquarters?" "The R. T. O. said take the subway." "I'm going to walk," said Andrews. "You'll get lost, won't you?" "No danger, worse luck," said Andrews, getting to his feet.
On learning that the house had been sold, he came down to the city to negotiate with the new owner, and to his astonishment found him to be the very man he had refused a meal to the week before. Blunt happened to be in Walters's office at the time the fellow called. Walters, he says, drew himself up to his full height, and looked like an ebony statue.
He had an impulse to move furtively as if he had stolen something. He went to the door and opened it a little. "Say, Walters, old man," he said, "I can't let you in.... I've got a girl with me. I'm sorry.... I thought you wouldn't get back till tomorrow." "You're kidding, aren't you?" came Walters's voice out of the dark hall. "No." Andrews shut the door decisively and bolted it again.
It would not be pleasant, certainly, to sit for an hour at a big empty table, ordering dishes fit only for epicures, and then, just as the waiters bore down with the Little Neck clams, so nicely iced and so cool and bitter-looking, to have to rise and go out into the street to a table d'hôte around the corner. This was Walters's state of mind when Mr.
None, however, had seen him; and after gazing for a short time upon the ruins of what was once a happy home, she turned mournfully away, and walked back to Mr. Walters's. "Has father come?" she inquired, as soon as the door was opened. "Not yet!" was the discouraging reply: "and Mr. Walters, he hasn't come back, either, miss!"
'Oh, I've eaten it right enough, Artie, thank your dear heart; and the soup too, dearie. Came by a boy from Walters's every day, addressed to "Berkeley, Esquire, 42 Whalley Street;" and the boy wouldn't leave it the first day, because he thought there must have been a mistake about the address.
Walters arrived just in time to be admitted to the wards; and on being shown the person whose name they had been unable to discover, he immediately recognized his friend. "Ellis, my poor fellow," he exclaimed, springing forward. "Stop, stop," cried the attendant, laying his hand upon Mr. Walters's shoulder; "he is hovering between life and death, the least agitation might be fatal to him.
Andrews, stood irresolutely for a while with his head bent, then went with unresilient steps up the alley, through the hole in the hedge and into Babette's kitchen. There was no fire. He stared morosely at the grey ashes until he heard Walters's voice beside him: "I've got you all fixed up." "What do you mean?" "Mean...are you asleep, Andrews? They've cut a name off the school list, that's all.
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