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Updated: June 12, 2025
I want you to stay dead for a little while say six months to a year!" Agar seated himself on the corner of the table, which creaked under the weight of his spare muscular person, and then, true to his cloth, he awaited further orders; true to his nature, he waited in silence. After a short pause the other proceeded to explain. "You frontier men," he said, "are closely watched; we know that.
I think it was some sort of mental aberration temporary, I hope, and think. We will see when he recovers himself when the circulation is restored." While he spoke he continued to examine his patient. He spoke in his natural tone, without attempting to lower his voice, for he knew that Arthur Agar had no comprehension of things terrestrial at that time.
Moreover, he was vaguely conscious of the fact that a right-minded person would have carefully abstained from accepting the most pressing invitation to form a third that evening. In view of this Jem Agar had recourse to the last refuge of the simple. He retired within himself, and, so to speak, shut the door.
"Yes," muttered Mrs. Agar. "Yes." There was a long silence, during which Mrs. Agar reflected, as deeply, perhaps, as she had ever reflected in her life. Then she discovered something for herself which had of necessity been pointed out to her son a subtle divergence of character. "But," she said, "of course Jem may never come back from this expedition. It must be very dangerous."
The arrangement, he argued, was satisfactory from whatever point of view it might be taken; and, finally, he begged his mother to try and succeed where he had failed. He did not propose that Mrs. Agar should appeal to Dora; not because such a course was repellent, but merely because he knew a better. He suggested that Mrs. Agar should sound Mr. Glynde upon the matter.
"I always thought that perhaps he and dear Dora would come to to some understanding." She stirred her tea with patient, suffering head inclined at a resigned angle. "Do you think there was any understanding between them?" inquired Mrs. Agar. "Well I should not like to say." Which, being translated, meant that she would like to say, but did not know. It had always been a pet scheme of Mrs.
"Got something up your sleeve, sir?" he inquired softly, for he knew somewhat of his superior officer's ways. "Yes!" replied the other curtly. "A trump card!" He continued to look at Jem Agar with a cold and calculating scrutiny, as a jockey may look at his horse or a butcher at living meat. "It's like this," he said. "You're dead.
And tradespeople, one finds are not always of the same mind as the Medes and Persians they square matters quietly in the bill. They had to do it very quietly indeed with Mrs. Agar, who endeavoured strenuously to get the best value for her money all through life; a remnant of Jaggery House, Clapham Common, which the placid wealth of Stagholme never obliterated.
That is why I say 'Thank God, you're safe! It is more than I expected." Our deeds still travel with us from afar, And what, we have been makes us what we are, There was a momentary pause; then Major Agar spoke. "In that case," he observed, "the British force occupying this country for the last week has consisted of myself and thirty Goorkhas." "Precisely so!
So night fell upon these two men thus hazardously brought together, and every moment stretched longer the distance between them James Agar going north, Seymour Michael passing southward. Agar wondered vaguely whether his toilsome diary would ever reach home, but he was not anxious as to the result of the fight which had evidently taken place in the valley.
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