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Updated: September 23, 2025
In the meantime, assuming the truth of what you have told us and I for one, you must remember, Mr. Burton, have every faith in your story assuming its truth, Mr. Bomford has made a most interesting proposition." Burton, with half-closed eyes, was listening to the singing of a thrush and watching the sunshine creep through the dark foliage of the cedar trees. He was only slightly interested.
"I find it hard to follow you," he admitted. "You will not accept my offer because you are afraid that when the effect of these beans has worn off, you will misuse the wealth which will come to you is that it?" "That is the entire truth," Burton confessed. "Have you asked yourself," Mr. Bomford demanded, impressively, "whether you have a right to treat your other self in this fashion?
Presently, without any visible co-operation on their part, a little scheme was carried into effect by the professor and Mr. Bomford. The latter rose and crossed to the other side of the room to speak to some friends. A few moments later he beckoned to the professor. Edith and Burton were alone. She drew a deep sigh of relief and turned towards him as though expecting him to say something.
It seems as though we were committing sacrilege. Your father and Mr. Bomford, and now this man Bunsome, are entirely engrossed in the commercial side of it. If it were to be a gift to the world, a real philanthropic enterprise, it would be different." "The world wasn't made for philanthropists, dear," she reminded him.
"I am quite at your service," he answered quietly. "Please let me hear exactly what it is that you have to say." The professor cleared his throat. "In the first place, Mr. Burton," he said, "I feel that I owe you an apology. I have taken a great liberty. Mr. Bomford here is one of my oldest and most intimate friends. I have spoken to him of the manuscript you brought me to translate.
"I hold them in trust for myself." There was a moment's silence. Mr. Bomford seemed to be struggling for words. The professor was looking exceedingly disappointed. "Mr. Burton," he protested, "I cannot help feeling a certain amount of admiration for your point of view, but, believe me, you are entirely in the wrong. I beg that you will think this matter over."
Once more he looked downward into the valley. Like a little speck along the road a motor-car was crawling along. "It is Mr. Bomford," he said. "He is coming to look for you." She rose to her feet. Together they stood, for a moment, hand in hand, looking down upon the flaming landscape. The fields at their feet were brilliant with color; in the far distance the haze of the sea.
"They want me to do something, Mr. Bomford and your father, something hideous, utterly grotesque. I have refused and they are very angry." "What is it that they want you to do?" "Dear," he answered, "you, I am sure, will understand. They want me to give them one of my beans. They want to make some wretched drug or medicine from it, to advertise it all over the world, to amass a great fortune."
"A very hot and dusty ride too. Still, after your father's message I did not hesitate for a second. Where is he, Edith? Have you any idea what it is that he wants?" She shook her head. "Did he send for you?" she asked. "Send for me!" Mr. Bomford repeated. "I should rather think he did." He looked inquiringly towards Burton. Edith introduced them. "This," she said, "is Mr.
Don't you realize can't you see that in acceding to our offer you will be acting the part of a philanthropist?" "Mr. Bomford," Burton said, leaning a little forward, "in all your arguments you forget one thing. My stock of these beans is already perilously low. When they are gone, I remain no more what I hope and believe I am at the present moment.
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