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

"The Coming of Bill"

You're the
queen and I'm just the prince consort, the fellow who happens to be
Mrs. Winfield's husband. It's not a pleasant part to have to play, and
I have had enough of it. We had better separate before we hate each
other. You have your amusements. I have my work. We can continue them
apart. We shall both be better off."
He stopped. Ruth did not speak. She was still sitting in the same
attitude. It was too dark to see her face. It formed a little splash of
white in the dusk. She did not move.
Kirk went to the door.
"I'm going up to say good-bye to Bill. Have you anything to say against
that? And I shall say good-bye to him in my own way."
She made no sign that she had heard him.
"Good-bye," he said again.
The door closed.
Up in the nursery Bill crooned to himself as he played on the floor.
Mamie sat in a chair, sewing. The opening of the door caused them to
look up simultaneously.
"Hello," said Bill.
His voice was cordial without being enthusiastic. He was glad to see
Kirk, but tin soldiers were tin soldiers and demanded concentrated
attention. When you are in the middle of intricate manoeuvres you
cannot allow yourself to be more than momentarily distracted by
anything.
"Mamie," said Kirk hoarsely, "go out for a minute, will you? I shan't
be long."
Mamie obediently departed.


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