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Galsworthy, John, 1867-1933

"The Burning Spear"


"Mrs--Petty," he said, trifling with a morsel of cheese, "it is useless
to disguise, from you that I may be going a journey, and I feel that
I shall not be able to part from all the care you have, bestowed on me
without recording in words my heartfelt appreciation of your devotion. I
shall miss it, I shall miss it terribly, if, that is, I am permitted to
miss anything."
Mrs. Petty, whose mind instantly ran to his bed socks, answered: "Don't
you worry, sir; I won't forget them. But wherever are you going now?"
"Ah!" said Mr. Lavender subtly, "it is all in the air at present; but
now that the lime-trees are beginning to smell a certain restlessness is
upon me, and you may see some change in my proceedings. Whatever happens
to me, however, I commit my dear Blink to your care; feed her as if she
were myself, and love her as if she were Joe, for it is largely on food
and affection that dogs depend for happiness.
"Why, good gracious, sir," said Mrs. Petty, "you talk as if you were
going for a month of Sundays. Are you thinking of Eastbourne?"
Mr. Lavender sighed deeply at that word, for the memory of a town where
he had spent many happy days added to the gentle melancholy of his
feelings on this last evening.


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