If I remember, I strained my little stock of it with these reporters
two nights ago."
"I wouldn't jib at expense, Sir Roderick," he whimpered.
"Don't kick him, Otty," Jimmy implored. "He's down. And listen to
me, Farrell," he went on, swinging about. "You can't help it: it's
the Hire System working out through the pores. You don't perspire
what you think you're perspiring, though you're doing it freely
enough. . . . Now, Otty--for my sake--if you don't mind!"
"Well then, Mr. Farrell," said I, "I'm ready to do this much for
you.--We'll find a taxi here and now for the Whips' Offices and take
their advice. Having taken it, I am willing to drive straight back
to your Committee Rooms with the Head Office's decision."
The man's nerves were anywhere. He clung to me for counsel--for mere
company--as he would have clung to anybody.
So we found a taxi and climbed in, all three.
But I did not reach the Whips' Office that day.
There was a hold-up as we neared the bridge, and we to came a dead
stop. I set it down to some ordinary block of traffic, and with a
touch of annoyance: for Farrell by this time was arguing himself out
as a victim of circumstances, and with a feebleness of sophistry that
tried the patience.
Pages:
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161