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Updated: May 29, 2025
"Now," said he, "if you'll just tie my coat round your neck by the sleeves let the vest go hang and then you'll have to let me carry you." Mrs. Kimbal did as she was told. But the buggy, relieved at last of all weight, slid off sidewise with the current, turned turtle, and was carried swiftly down-stream. Saterlee staggering, for the footing was uncertain, and holding Mrs.
Earlier in the night the darkness and the stars had wormed a story of divorce out of Mrs. Kimbal, and Saterlee had found himself longing to have the man at hand and by the throat.
You'll be lonely when I'm gone. I don't want you to be lonely. You gave me peace on earth. And you can't be happy unless you've got a woman to pet and pamper. That's your nature " He paused. "That was all," he said, and wiped his forehead with the palm of his hand. "It just stopped there." "I'm glad you told me," said Mrs. Kimbal gently.
The sight appeared to arouse whatever of youthful mischief remained in the feeble old heart. She seemed to gather herself for a tremendous effort, then snorted once, and kicked thrice three feeble kicks of perhaps six inches in the perpendicular. Mrs. Kimbal exploded into laughter. "Wouldn't you know she was a woman?" she said. But Saterlee was climbing out of the buggy.
"If we are to be on an honest footing," said the lady, "I must tell you that I have divorced more than one husband, and yet when I size myself up, as you call it, I do not seem to myself a lost woman. It's true that I act for my living " "I know," he interrupted, "you are Mrs. Kimbal. But I thought I knew more about you than I seem to. I'm Saterlee.
"That's my Dolly's letter to me," she said, "and it doesn't sound like " her voice broke. He took the letter from her and read it. "No, it doesn't," he said. And he said it roughly, because nothing brought rough speech out of the man so surely as tears when they were in his own eyes. "Well," said Mrs. Kimbal with a sigh, "let's talk." "No," said Saterlee, "let's think."
"Oh, Ma'am," he said, hesitated, cleared his throat, and became routed and confused. "If you'd rather not " said Mrs. Kimbal. "It isn't that," he said. "It would seem like bragging." "Surely not," she said. Saterlee, with his eyes on the broad, brown flood which they were approaching, repeated like a lesson: "'Mark I'm dying. I want it to do good, not harm. Jenny always thought the world of you.
Saterlee turned suddenly to Mrs. Kimbal, but his voice was very humble. "Ma'am?" he suggested. Mr. Holiday stepped upon the rear platform of his car, the Mishawaka, exactly two seconds before the express, with a series of faint, well-oiled jolts, began to crawl forward and issue from beneath the glass roof of the Grand Central into the damp, pelting snow. Mr.
"Between the two for me," said Mrs. Kimbal. "Not suddenly, but firmly and without hesitation." She gave a little shivery gasp. "It's not really cold," she said. "How strong the current pulls. Will you have to swim and tow me?" "Yes," he said. "Then wait," she said. "Don't let me be carried away."
Kimbal seemed to divine the cause of his embarrassment. "Please," she said, "don't mind anything on my account." He reached desperately, and regardlessly, for his boots, unlaced them, and took them off. "Why," exclaimed Mrs. Kimbal, "both your heels need darning!" Saterlee had tied his boots together, and was fastening them around his neck by the remainder of the laces.
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