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Updated: May 17, 2025
And I was to make a special trip to the city on the money I had saved from my weekly remittances ... for Penton would not permit me to spend a cent for my keep while I visited him. And I had already been with him three weeks.... I read them many love poems those I had written for Vanna....
Most serviceably a check from the National Magazine came, for twenty-five dollars ... I had sold them a prophetic poem on airships. The check ameliorated my condition. I saw my way clear to a few weeks more of regular eating. Then, on top of that, one day a telegram came.... "Am on my way West. Will stop off visit you at Laurel Penton." Travers rushed the story to the Kansas City Star.
"Sit down in the morris chair ... you look dusty and heated ... I'll entertain you ... I'm all alone ... Penton is dictating an article to Ruth. Darrie's washing her hair. I'm the only member of the Leisure Class. I'm lazing here, reading Gorky's latest novel." What an engaging, pretty, naïve, little woman this was! I commented inwardly.
Now, poor Penton would have spent the remainder of the night taking this "impulse" and the act which followed it as a serious problem in aesthetics, economics, feminism, and what-not ... and the two would have talked and discussed, their voices sounding and sounding in philosophic disquisition ... and, before the end, Hildreth, persuaded to take the situation seriously and enjoying the morbid attention given her, Hildreth would have gone off several times into hysterics....
He had the history of Laurel University, the story of my life, out of me, almost, by the time we had covered the ten blocks to the hotel. "Penton Baxter!" I whispered in a low voice to the proprietor, who, as he stood behind the desk, dipped the pen with a flourish, and shoved the open register toward his distinguished guest. Travers, of course, was the first to see the great novelist.
He talked with me over an hour, without ever setting pencil to paper ... the other interviews were long over, Penton had left, Hildreth sat chafing.... "Come over and join us, Hildreth."
"The Nook, Nunsmere, Surrey, will always find me." "Nunsmere?" He paused, pencil in hand, and looked up at her as she stood framed in the railway carriage window. "I nearly bought a house there last year. I was looking out for one with a lawn reaching down to a main railway track. This one had it." "Penton Court?" "Yes. That was the name." "It's still unsold," laughed Zora idly.
"William Guppy, of Penton Place, Pentonville, in the county of Middlesex," he murmured. "Between this gentleman, Mr. William Guppy, of Penton Place, Pentonville, in the county of Middlesex, and myself." "Thank you, miss," said Mr. Guppy. "Very full er excuse me lady's name, Christian and surname both?" I gave them. "Married woman, I believe?" said Mr. Guppy. "Married woman. Thank you.
Then a little, boyish-looking man ... smooth-faced, bright-complexioned, jumped down, wavered toward me, dropping his baggage ... extended his hand ... both hands ... smiling with his eyes, that possessed long lashes like a girl's. "Are you Johnnie Gregory?" "Penton Baxter?" I asked reverently. He smiled in response and drew my arm through his.
"I am taking a big step, Johnnie, I'm through with Penton Baxter forever but I wonder if my new life is to be with you ... you are such an irresponsible, delightful madman at times.... "You're wonderful as a lover ... but as a man with a woman to take care of !" "Don't worry about that! just give me a chance, and I'll show you I can be practical too." Hildreth had gone.
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