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Updated: May 31, 2025
Would you consider it a good thing for me to do?" Here at last was something tangible and promising. Mr. Pulcifer's puffy lids drew nearer together to hide the gleam behind them. He took the cigar from his mouth and held it between the fingers of his right hand. During his next speech he gesticulated with it. "Would I consid " he began, and then paused, apparently overcome by his feelings.
Pulcifer's "flivver" as it bounced and squeaked and rattled and splashed its way along. But Mr. Pulcifer himself was not sad, at least his appearance certainly was not. Swinging jauntily, if a trifle ponderously, with the roll of the little car, his clutch upon the steering wheel expressed serene confidence and his manner self-satisfaction quite as serene.
On one of those trips he caught a glimpse of Mr. Pulcifer's hemispherical countenance through its wearer's office window, and, on the spur of the moment's impulse, went in. Horatio, who was smoking his customary cigar, reading a political circular and humming "Beautiful Lady" all at the same time, looked up from the reading and greeted him boisterously. "Well, well, well!" exclaimed Raish.
He has been half sick for some time, I judge from what he has told me, and he is weak and worn out from his tramp and wetting." Miss Phipps shook her head impatiently. "The idea of Raish Pulcifer's cartin' him 'way over here and then leavin' him in the middle of the road," she said. "It's just like Raish, but that doesn't help it any; nothin' that's like Raish helps anything much," she added.
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