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Updated: June 18, 2025
It is he who, in the midnight of Esther Lockwin's grief, prepared for her confidential reading those long and scholarly essays of consolation which she studied so gratefully. Mr. Harpwood did not put his lucubrations in the care of Dr. Tarpion. Each and every one was written for no other eye but Esther's. While Dr. Tarpion was holding the husband at bay, Dr.
I do love him." The man has been eloquent and self-forgetful. The woman has lost her command. Tears are coming in her eyes. Shame is mantling her cheeks. David Lockwin is startled. George Harpwood passes in the distance with Esther's mother on his arm. "Esther, you know me, with all my faults. I think we could be happy together we three you and I and the boy. Will you marry me?
Now, if the delegate quicken his ear, he may hear the chairman commanding: "All those in favor will vote 'aye!" Again there is the tempest. The Harpwood delegates have voted aye! "What is it?" ask most of the delegates. "Lockwin is nominated by acclamation," comes the answer from the front. "Oh, is he?" say the delegates, Harpwood men and all. There is a numerous outgo for liquor.
In twice as many other precincts the situation is precisely the same, except that Harpwood and Lockwin, the recognized rivals, have the polls. At three o'clock the wagons begin to unload, vote and reload. A place is made at the head of the line for these "passengers." The "passenger" sailors vote at all of Corkey's precincts. They start for the other wards.
The woman at last secures a handkerchief which looks the worse for Corkey's long, though reverent, custody. "Wash it, sissy, and show it up to Mrs. Lockwin. I reckon it will steer her back to the day when she felt pretty good toward me. Be careful of that Harpwood. He ain't no use. I know it. She give me that wipe her own self yes, she did! God bless her." The woman once more kisses the sick man.
He studies the lock-history of the door. "Lots of people have broken in here," he muses. He passes over the rules well he knows them! The electric lights on the street throw dim shadows on the gas-lit wall factories, depots, vessels, docks, saw-mills. The phantasmagoria pleases Mr. Harpwood. "At 6 o'clock," he smiles, "I shall be the most powerful man in these parts.
"He's Mister George Harpwood," cries Corkey bitterly, "and if he aint no snooker, then you needn't tell me I ever see one!" Esther Lockwin looks upon George Harpwood as her savior. "I wanted to be happy," she smiles. "I did not believe I could exist in that desolate state. You came to me! You came to me!"
George Harpwood is one of those characters who have many friends and are friends to few. Others need him not he them. He can please if he attempt the task, and if the task be exceedingly difficult, he will become infatuated with it. He will then grow sincere. At least he believes he is sincere. Thus his patience is superb. His manners are widely praised.
When I see Chalmers in his drug store, he sits on his chair so I know it's a dead ringer on Lockwin. Chalmers is Lockwin, sissy. Don't you blow it. I've never told a soul till you. I've schemed and schemed to fix it up, but I never see a man in such a hole. He don't know I'm onto him. But I've no use for this Harpwood, that did me up when he had no need to. I wasn't in his way.
"I pray God you shall never have one," she vows. Both are exquisitely happy. Neither can say aught that displeases or hurts the other. For Esther it is the dawn the glorious sun rising out of a winter night. She never had a lover before. With George Harpwood it is the crowning of an edifice built with infinitely more pains than the David Lockwin Annex. The noise of all this is abroad.
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