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Updated: May 17, 2025
Obeying the moment's impulse, Mr. Winkleman bent down and left a kiss upon her pale lips. As if moved by an electric thrill, the wife's arms were flung around the husband's neck. "I am sorry to find you so ill," said Mr. Winkleman, in a voice of sympathy. "What is the matter?" "Only a sick-headache," replied Mrs. Winkleman. "But I've had a good sleep, and feel better now.
I would see!" Simba guided him up the hill. At the appointed spot they fell upon him and bore him to the earth in spite of his strength, and bound his hands behind his back. Then Simba wrapped the magic bone reverently in its cloth. Certainly it was wonderful magic. Winkleman put up a good fight, but once he felt himself definitely overpowered he ceased his struggles. He was helped to his feet.
"It has been found only in the lias formations of the Jurassic," stated Winkleman dogmatically, "and that type of Jurassic is not here. It is of England, yes; of Germany, yes; of the Americas, yes. Of central Africa, no!" "Nevertheless " interposed Kingozi. "But the cryptoclidus that greatly resembles the cinoliosaurus perhaps. Or even a subspecies of the plesiosaurus " "Simba," called Kingozi.
With these and many other justifying sentences, did Mr. Winkleman seek to obtain a feeling of self-approval. But, for all this, he could not shut out the image of a tearful face, nor get rid of an annoying conviction that he had acted thoughtlessly, to say the least of it, in speaking to his wife as he had done. But what was all this trouble about?
Clouds were in the sky that bent over the home of Mr. Winkleman, and it is plain that Mr. Winkleman himself had his own share in the work of producing these clouds. Only a few unguarded words had been spoken. Only words! And was that all? Words are little things, but they sometimes strike hard. We wield them so easily that we are apt to forget their hidden power.
The time for fencing is over. I know perfectly that you are sent by your government to make treaty with M'tela. And I know," she added with the graciousness of one who has got back to sure ground, "that no one could do it better; and no one as well." "Except Winkleman," said Kingozi simply. "Except Winkleman perhaps." "As you say, the time for fencing is over," pursued Kingozi. "That is true.
Self-justification was tried, though not, as has been seen, with complete success. The calmer grew the mind of Mr. Winkleman, and the clearer his thoughts, the less satisfied did he feel with the part he had taken in the morning's drama. By an inversion of thought, not usual among men of his temperament, he had been presented with a vivid realization of his wife's side of the question.
"There's one man has the science and the psychology both. He's a wonderful person. He knows the native objectively as I never will; and subjectively as well if not better. It is a rare combination. He's 'way over west of us somewhere now in the Congo headwaters a Bavarian, name Winkleman."
There'd soon be no breakfast to get, if I were always behind time in business matters." Mrs. Winkleman bent lower over the child she was dressing, to conceal the expression of her face. What a sharp pain now throbbed through her temples! Mr. Winkleman commenced walking the floor impatiently, little imagining that every jarring footfall was like a blow on the sensitive, aching brain of his wife.
There was a touching sadness blended with rebuke in the tones of his wife; and, as she uttered his name, tears gushed over her cheeks. Mr. Winkleman didn't like tears. They always annoyed him. At the present time, he was in no mood to bear with them. So, on the impulse of the moment, he arose from the table, and taking up his hat, left the house.
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