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Poole, Ernest, 1880-1950

"His Family"

"
"I'm not such an idiot," she replied. "She thinks me homely enough as it
is. And she's not altogether wrong. Bruce and I were talking it over last
night. We want to be closer, after this, to Deborah and Allan. Bruce says
it will do us _all_ good, and for once I think he's right. I _have_ given
too much time to my children, and Bruce to his office--I see it now. Not
that I regret it, but--well, we're going to blossom out."
* * * * *
She struck the same note with Deborah. And so did Bruce.
"Oh, Deborah dear," he said smiling, when he found a chance to see her
alone, "if you knew how long I've waited for this big fine thing to happen.
A. Baird is my best chum in the world. Don't yank him gently away from us
now. We'll keep close--eh?--all four of us."
"Very," said Deborah softly.
"And you mustn't get too solemn, you know. You won't pull too much of the
highbrow stuff."
"Heaven forbid!"
"That's the right idea. We'll have some fine little parties together. You
and A. Baird will give us a hand and get us out in the evenings. We need
it, God knows, we've been getting old." Deborah threw him a glance of
affection.
"Why, Brucie," she said, in admiring tones, "I knew you had it in you."
"So has Edith," he sturdily declared. "She only needs a little shove. We'll
show you two that we're regular fellows. Don't you be all school and we
won't be all home.


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