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Updated: July 22, 2025
Gordon!" says Steele, his shifty eyes narrowin'. "Yes, yes! Died abroad a month or so ago, didn't he?" "In Rome," says I. "The rheumatism got to his heart. He could see it comin' to him before he left. Poor old Pyramid!" "Indeed?" says Steele. "And was Gordon er a friend of yours, may I ask?" "One of my best," says I. "Know him, did you?" Mr. Steele darts a quick glance at me. "Rather!" says he.
'I wasn't thinkin' of narrowin' the Lord down to ministers; said Mrs. Fleming, with a certain loftiness. 'We all know He can do without us puir worms. Then, seeing that no one replied, the good woman got up to go.
Eh!" she went on, still louder, as she caught up her knitting from the table, "but she'll ne'er knit the lad's stockin's, nor foot 'em nayther, while I live; an' when I'm gone, he'll bethink him as nobody 'ull ne'er fit's leg an' foot as his old mother did. She'll know nothin' o' narrowin' an' heelin', I warrand, an' she'll make a long toe as he canna get's boot on.
There's nothin' friendly, though, about the straight, tight-lipped mouth, or the surprised look in her eyes as she discovers me standin' there. "Mr. McCabe?" says she. "You see," says I, grinnin' foolish, "there's a chap outside who who has a batty idea he used to know you." "Really?" says she, narrowin' her eyes a bit. "Bolan's the name, Ma'am," I goes on, "Larry Bolan."
'I wasn't thinkin' of narrowin' the Lord down to ministers, said Mrs. Fleming, with a certain loftiness. 'We all know He can do without us puir worms. Then, seeing that no one replied, the good woman got up to go.
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