Trapes."
"Supper'll be ready soon--your wedding supper, eh, Mr. Geoffrey? You'll
have it here with me, you an' Hermy, o' course! Smells kind o' good,
don't it?"
"Delicious, Mrs. Trapes!"
"Delicious is the word, Mr. Geoffrey--stooed beef with carrots--"
"And onions, Mrs. Trapes--onions, I'm sure?"
"Well, I'll not deny a onion here an' there, Mr. Geoffrey--a stoo needs
'em."
"Ah, I knew it!" sighed Ravenslee. "I grieve that I shan't be able to
eat it."
"Not eat--what, you? Say, y' ain't sick, are you?"
"Not in body, Mrs. Trapes."
"Then why no stoo?"
"Because I shan't be here. I'm going, Mrs. Trapes--I'm leaving
Mulligan's now--for good--"
"Leavin'--y' mean with Hermy?"
"No--alone. Good-by, Mrs. Trapes!"
"My land!" gasped Mrs. Trapes, "what you tellin' me?"
"Good-by, Mrs. Trapes!"
"But why? Oh, dear Lord, what is it? Who--"
"I want to thank you--for all your kindness. Good-by!"
As one in a dream Mrs. Trapes extended a limp hand and stood wide of
eye and pale of cheek to watch him go; and as he descended the stairs,
her look of helpless, pained surprise went with him.
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