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Updated: June 8, 2025
The sight of this gigantic ape dancing a Highland Fling stirred the drunken Dutchman to wildest merriment; he howled with delight. "Goot, goot! Some more Sharlie!" he yelled. "Dance, dance. Mein Gott, dot's der greadest sight I effer haff see me." This was the strange and awful spectacle Mrs. Schmitz tumbled upon, returning from a week's stay at Rattletrap.
"That was taken at Barrow Hill Farm," she said, "where we were together. He looked just like that.... Oh, Billy, do you think the past's really past?... Isn't there some way he could go on being what he was?" "I don't know, Sharlie, I don't know." "Why couldn't he have stayed there! Then he'd always have been like that. We should never have known." "You're not going to be unhappy about him?" "No.
And the beautiful mouth he praised so. Was it the disgust of knowing that you were only one of a procession? Or was it that Effie's sad, sharp face slipped between? And the end of it. The break-down, when Effie was ill. His hysterical cries. "My wife, Sharlie, my wife. We oughtn't to have done it.... "... I can't forgive myself, Sharlie. I've been a brute, a beast, a stupid animal....
True, he had occasional spasms of reawakened amazement, when he would gaze at the man-monkey in stupid wonder, saying: "I don't understand me, Sharlie," but Nickie's extremely human manner of disposing of gin seemed to reassure him, and he would burst into song again.
As for the house-party, they felt that they were fortunate beyond the lot of most ordinary mortals. The Baron sat among his heirlooms, laboriously disengaging himself from his kilt. Fitfully throughout this process he would warble snatches of an air which Miss Gallosh had sung. "Whae vould not dee for Sharlie?" he trolled, "Ze yong chevalier!"
The dog's barking gave place to terrified whinings, which in turn were suddenly quenched to a choking murmur. "Gome in, Sharlie, kvick!" "You got him?" queried Charlie, opening the door cautiously. "Did he bite you?" "Na, yust ma mitten. Gat a sack or someding da die him oop in."
John released the clutch, and the soldier shouted out something, they couldn't make out what, that ended with "mitrailleuses." As they ran down the street the solemn Boom Boom came right and left; they were now straight between the two batteries. "Are you all right, Sharlie?" "Rather." The little Belgian by her side muttered, protesting. "We're not really in any danger.
A black iron curtain crashed down before her and cut off the dream. Gwinnie looked up over the crook of her knee from the boot she was lacing. "You made no end of a row in your sleep, Sharlie." She had dreamed about him again, the next night. He was walking with her on the road from the town to the Farm. By the lime kiln at the turn he disappeared. He had never been there, really.
If it isn't you, it'll be another woman, Sharlie. If it isn't me, it'll be another man." That was what he had thought her. It didn't matter. She stood at the five roads, swinging her stick, undecided. The long line of the beeches drew her, their heads bowed to the north as the south wind had driven them.
I think I'm glad. It's a sort of relief. I shan't ever have that awful feeling of wondering what he'll do next.... Billy you were with him, weren't you?" "Yes." "Was he all right?" "Would it make you happier to think that he was or to know that he wasn't?" "Oh just to know." "Well, I'm afraid he wasn't, quite.... He paid for it, Sharlie. If he hadn't turned his back he wouldn't have been shot."
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