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Otis Pilkington, having instructed his Japanese valet to pack a few simple necessaries in a suitcase, took a cab to the Grand Central Station and caught an afternoon train for Rochester, where his recollection of the route planned for the tour told him "The Rose of America" would now be playing. Looking into his club on the way, to cash a check, the first person he encountered was Freddie Rooke.
Another guardian, Collins, got up, and said "I do." Thereupon the Chairman put it to the vote whether Pilkington should be requested to leave. The ayes had it, and the Chairman of the Board thereupon invited Pilkington to leave the meeting which the Board had invited him to attend!
They passed through train wrecks at the hands of Bolshevists, and various other exciting experiences. And Constable Pilkington, who penetrated into the interior of the country, gives some vivid stories of Bolshevik exploits.
"The music," he added, in a generous spirit of give and take, "has all Sullivan's melody with a newness of rhythm peculiarly its own. You will like the music." "It sounds," said Jill amiably, "as though the piece is bound to be a tremendous success." "We hope so," said Mr Pilkington.
If Jewdwine felt inclined to act on this suggestion Rickman would be glad if he would let him know within the next ten days; as otherwise his father would be obliged to close with Mr. Pilkington in due form after the twenty-seventh. Would he kindly wire an acknowledgement of the letter? Jewdwine had wired from London, "Thanks. Letter received; will write."
It is difficult to bid a tactful farewell to a man who has stated his intention of going in the same direction as yourself. There was nothing for it but to accept the unspoken offer of Otis Pilkington's escort. They began to walk down Broadway together. "I suppose you are tired after the rehearsal?" enquired Mr Pilkington in his precise voice.
He planned it all out . . . !" Jill cut into the babble of his denunciations. She was sick at heart, and she spoke almost listlessly. "Mr Pilkington!" The victim stopped. "Mr Pilkington, if what you say is true, and I'm afraid there is no doubt that it is, the only thing I can do is to give you back your property.
He had dealt with this situation in his mind and was prepared to cope with it. The surmise was confirmed the next instant when he rose and stationed himself in front of the fire. Mr Pilkington detested steam-heat and had scoured the city till he had found a studio apartment with an open fireplace. Uncle Chris spread his legs and expanded his chest. "Of course," he said.
Otis Pilkington suddenly gave tongue. He broke in on them with a loud noise that was half a snort and half a yell. Stunned by the information that it was Jill who had bought his share in the piece, Mr Pilkington's mind had recovered slowly and then had begun to work with a quite unusual rapidity. During the preceding conversation he had been doing some tense thinking, and now he saw all.
For the first time in several days a certain moodiness which had affected Otis Pilkington left him, and he dreamed happy daydreams. The gaiety of Otis was not, however, entirely or even primarily due to the improvement in the weather. It had its source in a conversation which had taken place between himself and Jill's Uncle Chris on the previous night.
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