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Wilson, Harry Leon, 1867-1939

"The Boss of Little Arcady"

Of course this was not at all like Clem. In referring to sums
of money due him he had ever been wont to chant them with a bard-like
inflation that recognized only sums of a vague but immense rotundity. I
had never known him to be thus prosaic, and I suspected that Miss
Caroline had, in a sudden impulse of doubt, terrified him into being so
brutally explicit.
Whence fell a coldness between Miss Caroline and me, for the discrepancy
between Clem's confession and mine was not slight. Even my mutterings
about interest having accumulated were put down as the desperate
resource of embarrassment. Miss Caroline did not even dignify them with
her notice, and the coldness increased.
Yet, while it was a true coldness, it was distinguished by a certain
alien quality of warmth, for Miss Caroline, though now on guard against
any mere vulgar benevolence of mine, talked to me frankly, as she had
never done before, about her situation.
First, it was impossible to think of going to her daughter. There were
debts in the town; Clem would be unable to work for many weeks; and not
only had Little Miss's contribution from her small wage now failed, but
she herself had incurred debts and would be without money to pay them.


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