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

"The Coming of Bill"


Sybil, however, was not exigent. She brightened at Ruth's words as if
they had been an authoritative pronouncement from an expert.
"Bailey is sure to do right," she said. "I think I'll creep in and see
if he's still asleep."
Ruth, left alone on the porch, fell into a pleasant train of thought.
There was something in her mental attitude which amused her. She
wondered if anybody had ever received the announcement of financial
ruin in quite the same way before. Yet to her this attitude seemed the
only one possible.
How simple everything was now! She could go to Kirk and, as she had
said to Sybil, start again. The golden barrier between them had
vanished. One day had wiped out all the wretchedness of the last year.
They were back where they had started, with all the accumulated
experience of those twelve months to help them steer their little ship
clear of the rocks on its new voyage.
* * * * *
She was roused from her dream by the sound of an automobile drawing up
at the door. A voice that she recognised called her name. She went
quickly down the steps.
"Is that you, Aunt Lora?"
Mrs. Porter, masterly woman, never wasted time in useless chatter.
"Jump in, my dear," she said crisply. "Your husband has stolen William
and eloped with that girl Mamie (whom I never trusted) to Connecticut.


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