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Updated: May 5, 2025
"My wife thought of that," said Daintree, "but Simcox didn't seem to take to the idea. He said the photo was too sacred a thing to be reproduced in a paper. My own idea is that he was afraid of any kind of publicity. You see, the other fellow might turn up the fellow who really had a right to the girl." "How the deuce did he propose to find her?" "I don't know.
He placed these children, thus handicapped or endowed, before the principals of selected schools; he desired that terms and full particulars might be placed before him to assist him in the anxious task of right selection. They were placed before him. Similarly with insurance companies. Again dependents and friends were created, by the dozen, by Mr. Simcox.
"Ah, but not the same thing, not the same thing," corrected Mr. Simcox. "An insurance agent, the ordinary insurance agent, is agent for a particular company. He only knows what his own company can do and he only wants his own company to do it. That's no good to the kind of man in the position we're speaking of. He wants some one who can tell him what all the companies will do for him.
He just saw it lying there on the ground and stuffed it into his pocket Almost immediately after that he was hit. Bit of shrapnel under the knee." "I remember hearing about that business," I said. "We were driven out again, weren't we?" "Exactly. And Simcox was left behind. He couldn't walk, of course. But he crawled into a shell hole, and there he lay.
"Yet I am sure I should have felt the same for you if you had been oh! ever so old!" "What, with wrinkled cheeks, and palsied head, and a brown wig, and no teeth, like Mr. Simcox?" "Oh, but you could never be like that! You would always look young your heart would be always in your face. That clear smile ah, you would look beautiful to the last!"
I would rather make people religious through their best feelings than their worst, through their gratitude and affections, rather than their fears and calculations of risk and punishment." Mr. Simcox stared. "Does she say her prayers?" "I have taught her a short one." "Did she learn it readily?" "Lord love her, yes!
But Simcox insisted his girl must be some relation of Pat's, and in the end I promised to ask the boy. In the first place, if she was a relation, it seemed an impudent sort of thing to do, and if she wasn't, Pat would be sure to make up some infernal story about me and a girl and tell it all over the place. However, my wife egged me on and poor Simcox was so frightfully keen that I promised.
"I haven't," said Daintree, "except the kind of wooden box in which the gardener goes out to clear away the duck-weed. However, Pat Singleton comes into the Simcox story in the end. It's really about him that my wife wants your advice." "No one," I said, "can give advice about Pat Singleton."
Disregarding his injunctions with a kind of contempt, she advanced and addressed herself to the terror-stricken valet. "What is it, Simcox?" she asked. "I heard you say " "Yes, my lady, it's true," faltered Simcox, wiping the sweat from his face. "I helped Jenkins carry the Marquess into his bedroom. If his lordship isn't dead, he's as good as dead."
He is ah, he's passed; he's gone; it's over; nothing... nothing for here.... Rat-tat! That's next door. The party wall shakes. The lustres on the mantelpiece shake. Mr. Simcox's hands shake. He sits down, pushes his plate away.... It is absurd; it is ridiculous, of course it is; but it was pathetic, it was moving, as it was received from Mr. Simcox by that young and most warm-hearted Rosalie.
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