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Updated: June 13, 2025
After a long, long silence she sighed, remembering her companion. "Thank you for not talking," she said softly. "Don't," he replied. "I had nothing to say. I never talk. I've scarcely talked for a year." She laughed idly. "Why?" "No one to talk to. Except my man," he added conscientiously. "His name is Wiggleswick." "I hope he looks after you well," said Zora, with a touch of maternal instinct.
The next morning, about eight o'clock, just as he was sinking into his first sleep, he was awakened through a sudden dream of battle by a series of revolver shots. Wondering whether Wiggleswick had gone mad or was attempting an elaborate and painful mode of suicide, he leaped out of bed and rushed to the landing. "What's the matter?" "Hello!
Yet in his heart he felt that the expert would put his finger on the weak spot and consign the machine to the limbo of phantasmagoric artillery. "If it is all you say, there's a fortune in it," said he. "There's no shadow of doubt about it," replied Septimus. "I'll send Wiggleswick over with the model to-morrow, and you can see for yourself." "What are you going to do with it?"
"I thought that was the last thing a burglar would do," said Zora. "They generally use jemmies," he said gravely. "Wiggleswick has given me his collection. They're very useful." "What for?" she asked. "To kill moths with," he replied dreamily. "But what made you take a superannuated burglar for a valet?" "I don't know. Perhaps it was Wiggleswick himself.
"And then you can say you can't live with me any longer. You couldn't stand me. I don't think any woman could. Only Wiggleswick could put up with my ways." Emmy passed her hands across her eyes. She was somewhat dazed. "You would give me your name and shield me just like that!" Her voice quavered. "It isn't much to give. It's so short," he remarked absently.
"I've just left the Hôtel Godet and come back to Nunsmere. Perhaps I'll give up the house and take Wiggleswick to London when Emmy returns. She promised to look for a flat for me. I believe women are rather good at finding flats." Sypher handed him a box of cigars. He lit one and held it awkwardly with the tips of his long, nervous fingers.
Presently they came across Septimus sitting by the pond. He rose and greeted them. He wore an overcoat buttoned up to the throat and a cloth cap. Zora's quick eyes noted an absence of detail in his attire. "Why, you're not dressed! Oh, you do want a wife to look after you." "I've only just got up," he explained, "and Wiggleswick wanted to do out my bedroom, so I hadn't time to find my studs.
Septimus lit the half-smoked pipe of the night before that lay on the coverlet, and becoming aware of Wiggleswick, disturbed his contemplation of nature by asking him if he had ever been married. "What?" asked Wiggleswick in the unmodulated tone of the deaf. "Have you ever been married, Wiggleswick?" "Heaps of times," said the old man. "Dear me," said Septimus. "Did you commit bigamy?" "Bigamy?
Zora rose and looked around her. Then, with a sweep of her umbrella indicating the general dustiness and untidiness of the room: "The best thing you can do," said she, "is to have the house thoroughly cleaned and put in order. They may be back any day. I'll send in a charwoman to help you." "Thank you, ma'am," said Wiggleswick, somewhat glumly.
As he was stretching himself, Wiggleswick shambled in, with the fear of Zora written on his wrinkled brow, and removed the tray and the plate of broken victuals.
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