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Phillips, David Graham, 1867-1911

"The Conflict"

But I've made lots of people angry and have
lost their trade. I had hopes of you. You were such a hopeless
wreck. But no. And you call yourself an intelligent man!''
``I'll never do it again,'' said Hastings, pleading, but smiling,
too--Charlton's way of talking delighted him.
``You think this is a joke,'' said Charlton, shaking his bullet
head. ``Have you any affairs to settle? If you have, send for
your lawyer in the morning.''
Fear--the Great Fear--suddenly laid its icy long fingers upon the
throat of the old man. He gasped and his eyes rolled. ``Don't
trifle with me, Charlton,'' he muttered. ``You know you will
pull me through.''
``I'll do my best,'' said Charlton. ``I promise nothing. I'm
serious about the lawyer.''
``I don't want no lawyer hanging round my bed,'' growled the old
man. ``It'd kill me. I've got nothing to settle. I don't run
things with loose ends. And there's Jinny and Marthy and the
boy--share and share alike.''
``Well--you're in no immediate danger. I'll come early
to-morrow.''
``Wait till I get to sleep.''
``You'll be asleep as soon as the light's down. But I'll stop a
few minutes and talk to your daughter.''
Charlton found Jane at the window in the dressing room next her
father's bedroom. He said loudly enough for the old man to
overhear:
``Your father's all right for the present, so you needn't worry.
Come downstairs with me. He's to go to sleep now.


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