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Updated: June 11, 2025
As they neared the turn in the alley, she played her reserve card. "Henry didn't think it prudent to bring the big car into the Jenkins's cul-de-sac, so he waited in the next street. I expect father will be there by this time. We dropped him at a factory near by, where he was to speak to some United Workmen."
The dialogue continued in an undertone. Mme. Jenkins advanced, bowing, smiling, while the doctor, stopping a tray that was being borne round, brought her a glass of claret with the alacrity of a mother, an impresario, a lover. Calumny, calumny, ineffaceable defilement! To the provincial young man, Jenkins's attentions now seemed exaggerated.
"Oh, I'm always jolly," replied Bywater, and then he began to whistle again. He followed Mr. and Mrs. Jenkins into the shop with his eyes; that is, they followed Jenkins. Bywater had heard, as a matter of necessity, of Jenkins's illness, and had given as much thought to it as he would have done if told Jenkins had a headache; but to fancy him like this had never occurred to Bywater.
From the opposite section came an unmistakable sound, long-drawn and penetrating as a cross-cut saw. Madam was evidently asleep. Betty giggled, as from Jenkins's perch came a gentle echo. "'Hi honly said as 'ow hit were a bad 'abit, ma'am," whispered Lloyd. "Wouldn't you love to jab the old lady herself with an umbrella?"
But the sneer at her little bit of mutton turned her penitence to fresh wrath, and she shut the door in Mrs. Jenkins's face, as she stood caressing her cat in the lobby, with such a bang, that it wakened little Tom, and he began to cry. Everything was to go wrong with Mary to-day. Now baby was awake, who was to take her husband's dinner to the office?
They next turned their attention to Dick, who had not had a run since the day when he had his eye cut by the stone thrown by Bill Jenkins's party.
"No, it's my belief he could not," tartly chimed in Jenkins's lady. "He would have tantalized himself into a fever. Why, Mr. Galloway, had I marched him back to his bed and turned the key upon him, he'd have been capable of letting himself down by a cord from his window, in the face and eyes of all the street. Now, Jenkins, I'll have none of your contradiction! you know you would."
I caught sight of a mob of them just before I passed Jenkins's hut, and when stopping to leave a message I could nowhere find him. The blacks have evidently been there, and, I am afraid, have killed him. I did not stop to search longer, but came on to tell father, that he might send over to Ogilvie to set the police after them."
What a nice, clean stable he had! There was always a foul smell coming out of Jenkins's stable, but here the air seemed as pure inside as outside. There was a number of little gratings in the wall to let in the fresh air, and they were so placed that drafts would not blow on the horses. Mr. Wood was going from one horse to another, giving them hay, and talking to them in a cheerful voice.
Here is Europe, burning in one corner of it by Jenkins's Ear, and such a smoulder of combustible material awakening nearer hand: will not Europe, probably, blaze into general War; Pragmatic Sanction going to waste sheepskin, and universal scramble ensuing?
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