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Updated: May 25, 2025
It would appear that small favors were to him great pleasures. "That's splendid! Up until now the joke of this thing has been on me. I want to transfer it to them. I'm to meet them up here in the lounge of the Churchill-Fontenay." "That's where I am stopping," said Mrs. Propbridge. "Is it? Better and better! We might stroll along that way if you don't mind. By Jove, I've an idea!
If he could lay hands on the idiot who had sent him that forged telegram well, the angered Mr. Propbridge indicated with a gesture of a large and knobby fist what he would do to the aforesaid idiot. The next time Mr. Propbridge was haled to the broiling Corn Belt he made very sure that the warrant was genuine.
I can't be mistaken!" "But you are mistaken," she insisted; "very much mistaken. My name is not Watrous; my name is Propbridge." "Madam," he cried, "I beg ten thousand pardons! Really, though, this is one of the most remarkable things I ever saw in my life one of the most remarkable cases of resemblance, I mean. I am sure anyone would be deceived by it; that is my apology.
"Let me give you a little advice, Mrs. Propbridge," he said. "I've had a lot of experience in such matters as these. The interested parties will be better off if they're perfectly frank in talking to the press. Then all misunderstandings are avoided and everybody gets a fair deal in print. Don't you agree with me that I am right?"
Propbridge; he had enjoyed tremendously meeting her under these unconventional circumstances; and now he must go. It was not to be denied that young Mrs. Propbridge felt distinctly disappointed. The start of the little adventure had had promise in it. She had forecast all manner of agreeable contingencies as the probable outcome.
Propbridge?" Without being in the least presuming he somehow had managed to convey a subtle tribute. "I am Mrs. Justus Propbridge, if that is what you mean," she said. "Well, then," he said in tones of relief, "that simplifies matters. Is your husband about, madam? If he is I will do myself the honor of introducing myself to him and repeating to him the explanation I have just made to you.
"Sure. Photographs of you and the gray-haired party." He reached in a breast pocket and brought out a thin sheaf of unmounted photographs and handed them to her. "Mrs. Propbridge, just take a look at these and then tell me if you blame me for assuming that there's bound to be trouble when your husband sees them?"
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