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Updated: May 23, 2025
"Huh!" returned Condy. "As long as she SAID she was thirty-one, you can bet everything you have that she is; that's as true as revealed religion." "Well, it's something to have seen the kind of people who write the personals," said Blix. "I had always imagined that they were kind of tough." "You see they are not," he answered. "I told you they were not.
That New Year's Day was to be the end of everything. Blix was going; she and Condy would never see each other again. The thought of marriage with its certain responsibilities, its duties, its gravity, its vague, troublous seriousness, its inevitable disappointments was even a little distasteful to them. Their romance had been hitherto without a flaw; they had been genuinely happy in little things.
Here they sat down, Blix settling herself on an old log with a little sigh of contentment, Condy stretching himself out, a new-lighted pipe in his teeth, his head resting on the little handbag he had persistently carried ever since morning.
At every moment he consulted his watch and fixed the outside door with a scowl. It was already twenty minutes after seven. "I know the red-headed man spoiled it, after all," murmured Blix. "K. D. B. saw the two of them in here and was frightened." "We could send Captain Jack a telegram from her," suggested Condy. "I'm ready for anything now." "What could you say?" "Oh, that she couldn't come.
"But wouldn't you love to be there and see them meet!" exclaimed Condy. "Can't we fix it up some way," said Blix, "to bring these two together to help them out in some way?" Condy smote the table and jumped to his feet. "Write to 'em!" he shouted. "Write to K. D. B. and sign it Captain Jack, and write to Captain Jack " "And sign it K. D. B.," she interrupted, catching his idea.
"I told you, Condy, I told you," complained Blix, sinking helplessly upon a bench in the waiting-room. "No no no," he answered vaguely, looking nervously about, his head in the air. "We're none too soon have more time to rest now. I wonder what track the train leaves from. I wonder if it stops at San Bruno. I wonder how far it is from San Bruno to Lake San Andreas. I'm afraid it's going to rain.
Only the sheen of dull gold remained, piercing the single vast mass of purple like the blade of a golden sword. "There's a ship!" said Blix in a low tone. A four-master was dropping quietly through the Golden Gate, swimming on that sheen of gold, a mere shadow, specked with lights red and green. In a few moments her bows were shut from sight by the old fort at the Gate.
In the back room, seated at the same table, a bunch of wilting marguerites between them, they had seen their "matrimonial objects" conferring earnestly together, absorbed in the business of getting acquainted. Blix heaved a great sigh of relief and satisfaction, exclaiming: "At last K. D. B. and Captain Jack have met!"
Condy set his teeth. "I'll join you later. Wait a few moments," he said. He hurried to the office of the club, and sent a despatch to Blix the third since morning: "Can I come up right away? It's urgent. Send answer by this messenger." He got his answer within three-quarters of an hour, and left the club as Hendricks and George Hands arrived by the elevator entrance.
It was impossible at this late hour to accept either one of the young women's invitations without offending the other. "Well, I won't go to EITHER, that's all," he vociferated aloud to the opposite wall. "I'll send 'em each a wire, and say that I'm sick or have got to go down to the office, and and, by George! I'll go up and see Blix, and we'll read and make things to eat."
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