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Updated: June 13, 2025
"Hullo, Spennie," said Charteris, "I wanted to see you. It is currently reported that you are in love. At dinner, you looked as if you had influenza. What's your trouble? For goodness' sake, bear up till the show's over. Don't go swooning on the stage, or anything. Do you know your lines?" "The fact is," said his lordship eagerly, "it's this way. I happen to want Can you lend me a fiver?"
So with Spennie Dreever. Bright eyes might shine for him when all was over, but in the meantime what seemed to him more important was that bulging eyes would glare. If only this had happened later even a day later! The reckless impulsiveness of the modern girl had undone him. How was he to pay Hargate the money? Hargate must be paid. That was certain. No other course was possible.
Spennie Blunt, meanwhile, was not feeling happy. Out of his life, too, had the sunshine gone. His assets amounted to one pound seven and fourpence and he owed twenty pounds.
"Jimmy is staying here, father. He is the friend Spennie was bringing." "This is the friend that Spennie brought," said Jimmy in a rapid undertone. "This is the maiden all forlorn who crossed the seas, and lived in the house that sheltered the friend that Spennie brought." "I see, me dear," said Mr. McEachern slowly. "'Wah " "No, I've guessed that one already," said Jimmy. "Ask me another."
The official prompter arrived at the end of the monologue with the remark that he had been having a bit of a smoke in the garden and his watch had gone wrong. Leaving him to discuss the point with Charteris, Spennie slipped quietly away, and flitted up the stairs toward Sir Thomas' dressing room. At the door, he stopped and listened. There was no sound. The house might have been deserted.
"Jimmy and I are engaged, Spennie." "What! Not really? I say, I'm frightfully pleased. He's one of the best. I'm fearfully glad. Why, that's absolutely topping. It'll be all right. I'll sweat to pay him back. I'll save out of my allowance. I can easily do it if I cut out a few things and don't go about so much. You're a frightfully good sort, Molly. I say, will you ask him to-night?
"This is my friend Pitt, uncle," said Spennie, presenting Jimmy with a motion of the hand. Sir Thomas extended three fingers. Jimmy extended two, and the handshake was not a success. At this point in the interview, Spike came up, chuckling amiably, with a magazine in his hand. "P'Chee!" said Spike. "Say, Mr. Chames, de mug what wrote dis piece must ha' bin livin' out in de woods for fair.
Wesson, looking at his watch an hour later, "that we were going in to dress for dinner." Spennie made no reply. He was wrapped in thought. "Let's see, that's twenty pounds you owe me, isn't it?" continued Mr. Wesson. "No hurry, of course. Any time you like. Shocking bad luck you had." They went out into the rose garden. "Jolly everything smells after the rain," said Mr. Wesson.
"Very well," he said. Twenty minutes later, Mr. Wesson was looking somewhat ruefully at the score sheet. "I owe you eighteen shillings," he said. "Shall I pay you, now, or shall we settle up in a lump after we've finished?" "What about stopping now?" said Spennie. "It's quite fine out." "No, let's go on. I've nothing to do till dinner, and I'm sure you haven't."
"All right," said Spennie again. "How much?" "Something fairly moderate. Ten bob a hundred?" There is no doubt that Spennie ought at this suggestion to have corrected the novice's notion that ten shillings a hundred was fairly moderate. He knew that it was possible for a poor player to lose four hundred points in a twenty-minute game, and usual for him to lose two hundred. But he let the thing go.
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