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Wodehouse, P. G. (Pelham Grenville), 1881-1975

"The Coming of Bill"

"
"When did you go to the house last, Steve?"
Steve reflected.
"About a couple of weeks ago, I reckon."
"See the kid?"
Steve shook his head.
"Seeing his nibs ain't my long suit these days. I may be wrong, but I
got the idea there was a dead-line for me about three blocks away from
the nursery. I asked Keggs was the coast clear, but he said the Porter
dame was in the ring, so I kind of thought I'd better away. I don't
seem to fit in with all them white tiles and thermometers."
"You used to see him every day when we were here. And you didn't seem
to contaminate him, as far as any one could notice."
There was a silence.
"Do you see him often, colonel?"
Kirk laughed.
"Oh, yes. I'm favoured. I pay a state visit every day. Think of that! I
sit in a chair at the other end of the room while Mrs. Porter stands
between to see that I don't start anything. Bill plays with his
sterilized bricks. Occasionally he and I exchange a few civil words.
It's as jolly and sociable as you could want. We have great times."
"Say, on the level, I wonder you stand for it."
"I've got to stand for it."
"He's your kid."
"Not exclusively. I have a partner, Steve."
Steve snorted dolefully.
"Ain't it hell the way things break loose in this world!" he sighed.
"Who'd have thought two years ago----"
"Do you make it only two? I should have put it at about two thousand.


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