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Poole, Ernest, 1880-1950

"His Family"

Curiously enough he could recall every word of it now.
Every point which he had made rose up before him vividly. How clear he had
been, how simple and true, and yet with what a tremendous effect he had
piled the points one on the other. "By George," he thought with a little
glow, "for a fellow who's never been in a pulpit I put up a devilish strong
appeal." And he added sagely, "Let it work on the girl, give it a chance.
She'll come out of this all right. This idea some fellows have, that every
woman is born a fool, isn't fair, it isn't true. Just let a line of
argument be presented to her strong and clear--straight from the
shoulder--by some man--"
And again with a tingle of pleasure his mind recurred to his sermon. His
pleasures had been few of late, so he dwelt on this little glow of pride
and made the most of it while it was here.
At the office, as he entered his room, he stopped with a slight shock of
surprise. John, standing on his crutches in front of a large table, had
been going through the morning's mail, sorting out the routine letters
Roger did not need to see. To-day he had just finished and was staring at
the window. The light fell full on his sallow face and showed an amazing
happiness. At Roger's step he started.
"Well, Johnny, how goes it this morning?"
"Fine, thank you," was the prompt reply. And John hobbled briskly over to
his typewriter in the corner. Roger sat down at his desk.


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