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Henry, O., 1862-1910

"The Voice of the City: Further Stories of the Four Million"

I couldn't
be jealous of that far-away divinity that he used to worship, for I
was going to have him myself. And I began to look upon him as a saint
on earth, just as old lady Gurley did.
"About four o'clock this afternoon a man came to the house for Arthur
to go and see somebody that was sick among his church bunch. Old lady
Gurley was taking her afternoon snore on a couch, so that left me
pretty much alone.
"In passing by Arthur's study I looked in, and saw his bunch of keys
hanging in the drawer of his desk, where he'd forgotten 'em. Well, I
guess we're all to the Mrs. Bluebeard now and then, ain't we, Lynn? I
made up my mind I'd have a look at that memento he kept so secret.
Not that I cared what it was--it was just curiosity.
"While I was opening the drawer I imagined one or two things it might
be. I thought it might be a dried rosebud she'd dropped down to him
from a balcony, or maybe a picture of her he'd cut out of a magazine,
she being so high up in the world.
"I opened the drawer, and there was the rosewood casket about the
size of a gent's collar box. I found the little key in the bunch that
fitted it, and unlocked it and raised the lid.
"I took one look at that memento, and then I went to my room and
packed my trunk. I threw a few things into my grip, gave my hair a
flirt or two with a side-comb, put on my hat, and went in and gave
the old lady's foot a kick. I'd tried awfully hard to use proper and
correct language while I was there for Arthur's sake, and I had the
habit down pat, but it left me then.


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