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Updated: June 19, 2025
It is the seven thousand dollars that gives him this lion-like courage. Esther needs him. He has come. The door opens. A pleasant-faced lady appears. "Call Mrs. Lockwin, please." "Mrs. Lockwin? Oh, yes. I believe she did live here. I do not know where she lives now, but it is on Prairie avenue. After her father died she went home to live." Is Judge Wandrell dead?
The philosophic discuss the character of Esther Lockwin. "Her troubles have brought her out. These cold women are slow to strike fire, but I admire them," says the first philosopher. "Don't you think our American widows make too much ado?" asks the second philosopher. "They at least do not ascend the burning pyre of their dead husbands." "To be sure. That's so.
"Live down your enemies, David!" she had said, as she kissed him. The words were insincere. They had a false sound, or an unconvincing sound. They had jarred on David Lockwin. "I can outlive my friends easily enough, it seems," he thought, as he recited the lines of holy fields over whose acres walked those blessed feet. "I can outlive poor Davy. I ought to be happy in politics.
"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.
A sneeze is to enter the politics of the First District. Could any political boss, however prudent or scholarly, foresee it? A sneeze is to influence the life of David Lockwin. Does not providence move in a mysterious way? A great newspaper has employed as its marine reporter a singular character. He once was rich that is, he had $10,000 in currency. How had he made it? Running a faro bank.
There is more than political rancor in this handbill. There is more than a well defined, easily perceived personal malice in this argument. There is the poisoning sting of the truth the truth said in a general way, but striking in a special and a tender place. The house is reached. Lockwin has not enlarged his establishment.
Trembling in every joint, he called at the house of an acquaintance. "I dislike to keep you here," said the friend, "if you are afraid of the whooping-cough. We have it here in the house." It seemed to David Lockwin that the city was an inhospitable place for childhood. The man and child traveled on and on. They reached the toy store. They stood before the soda fountain. They bought bat and ball.
No lover should leave anything to fortune. Dr. Tarpion will give the information. He shall be the mutual friend the go-between to unravel this tangled web of deception. If David Lockwin shall in future discover himself to Esther, he must have the aid of a discreet and loving friend. Dr. Tarpion is the man. This letter will open the way for further disclosures.
He discovers an admirable method of coming in correspondence with the Prairie avenue mansion. Dr. Floddin has recently died, and a new proprietor is in possession of the drug store. It is a matter of a week's time to install David Lockwin. It could have been done in a minute, but a week's time seemed more in order and pleased the seller. You look in and you see a square stove.
A week from Thursday night Harpwood is to marry Mrs. Lockwin. It isn't no good. I want you to see Lockwin, and tell him for me that if his story gets out it wasn't me, and I want you to tell him for me that he mustn't let that poor widow commit no bigamy. It's an awful hole, that's what it is! It is tough on him!" He has worked on the problem for years. The man groans. There is a rap on the door.
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