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Updated: July 2, 2025
Simmy smoked in silence, apparently absorbed in watching the angry clouds that blackened the western sky. Presently Thorpe resumed his seat in the window. His eyes did not meet Simmy's as the latter turned toward him. He look straight out over the tops of the great apartment houses on the far side of the Park. "How long has she been living down there alone?" he asked again. "Five or six weeks."
She was wearing her hat and was buttoning her gloves as she came hurriedly into the room. Simmy had a startling impression that he had seen a great many women putting on their gloves as they came into rooms where he was waiting. The significance of this extraordinary custom had never struck him with full force before.
On top of his wild shriek, broke out a chorus of screams and oaths, in the middle of which the coffin tilted up and went over with a crash. "Satan Satan!" bawled Simmy, and, dropping the lantern, took to his heels for dear life. At the same moment the horses took fright; and before I could scramble out, we were tearing madly away over the turf and into the darkness. I had made a sad mess of it.
Simmy Gordon, the village cut-up, said hit was a cheap funeral fer Ugly en good riddance. But Simmy was wrong, as usual. The home was sold by fine print hit was bid in by Romine fer about the price of his bill and the costs. Later Romine deeded hit to another, who in turn deeded hit to Logan, who now owns hit, en the yearly income would pay a funeral bill with flowers.
I was enabled to judge something still further of the speculations waking in the Wallencamp brain, when, having to keep Henry G. after school, one night, as a means of discipline, he bawled out: "Ye don't keep Simmy B. after school no more!
And so, when Simmy Dodge walked in upon him one day, expecting to find a beaten, discouraged skulker, he was confronted by a sun-browned, bare- armed, bright-eyed warrior whose smile was that of the man who never laughs,—the grim smile of him who thinks.
And we want them to die when their time comes, by God's hand not man's, for God does give them a peaceful, glorious end. But we don't want them to suffer, any more than we would want the young to suffer, I loved my grandfather. Death was a great boon to him. He wanted to die. But all old men do not want to die. They—" "We're not getting anywhere with this kind of talk," interrupted Simmy.
He would have to act, and act promptly. He did not dare go away while that menacing figure remained on guard. The police, no doubt, would drive him away in time, but he would come back again. So Simmy Dodge squared his shoulders and marched across the street, to face what might turn out to be a ruthless lunatic—the kind one reads about, who kill their best friends, "and all that sort of thing."
"I'll drive home with you, if you like," said the good Simmy, solicitously. She saw by the evening papers that the operation on Marraville was to take place the next day. That night she slept but little. When her maid roused her from the slumber that came long after the sun was up, she immediately called for the morning papers.
He was ashamed of himself for the thought,—and afterwards he wondered why he should have been ashamed. After all, it was only right that she should be sorry for him. He deserved that much from her. An awkward silence ensued. Simmy Dodge coughed nervously, and then Braden advanced to greet Mrs. Tresslyn. She did not rise. Her gloved hand was extended and he took it without hesitation.
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