The Face and the Mask by Robert Barr (books to read in your 20s female .txt) 📕
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- Author: Robert Barr
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“Of course it is. It has been so for the last five years. You forget that in that time you have been fixed up temporarily on several occasions. Now, I will get you ‘round so that you can travel in a few days and then I insist on a sea voyage or a quiet time somewhere on the continent. You will have to throw off business cares entirely. There are no ifs or buts about it.”
“Look here, doctor. I don’t see how I am to leave at this time. I have been as bad as this a dozen times before. You know that. I’m just a little fagged out and when I go back to the office I can take things easier. You see, we have a big South American contract on hand that I am very anxious about. New business, you know.”
“I suppose you could draw your cheque for a pretty large amount, Mr. Crandall.”
“Yes, I can. If money can bridge the thing over, I will arrange it.”
“Well, money can’t. What I wanted to say was that if, instead of having a large sum in the bank, you had overdrawn your account about as much as the bank would stand, would you be surprised if your cheque were not honored?”
“No, I wouldn’t.”
“Well, that is your state physically. You’ve overdrawn your vitality account. You’ve got to make a deposit. You must take a vacation.”
“Any other time, doctor. I’ll go sure, as soon as this contract is off. Upon my word I will. You needn’t shake your head. A vacation just now would only aggravate the difficulty. I wouldn’t have a moment’s peace knowing this South American business might be bungled. I’d worry myself to death.”
The funeral of Mr. Crandall was certainly one of the most splendid spectacles the city had seen for many a day. The papers all spoke highly of the qualities of the dead manufacturer, whose growth had been typical of the growth of the city. The eloquent minister spoke of the inscrutable ways of Providence in cutting off a man in his prime, and in the very height of his usefulness.
THE FAILURE OF BRADLEY. The skater lightly laughs and glides, Unknowing that beneath the ice On which he carves his fair device A stiffened corpse in silence glides. It glareth upward at his play; Its cold, blue, rigid fingers steal Beneath the tracings of his heel. It floats along and floats away. —Unknown Poem.
“If I only had the courage,” said Bradley, as he looked over the stone parapet of the embankment at the dark waters of the Thames as they flashed for a moment under the glitter of the gaslight and then disappeared in the black night to flash again farther down.
“Very likely I would struggle to get out again the moment I went over,” he muttered to himself. “But if no help came it would all be done with, in a minute. Two minutes perhaps. I’ll warrant those two minutes would seem an eternity. I would see a hundred ways of making a living, if I could only get out again. Why can’t I see one now while I am out. My father committed suicide, why shouldn’t I? I suppose it runs in the family. There seems to come a time when it is the only way out. I wonder if he hesitated? I’m a coward, that’s the trouble.”
After a moment’s hesitation the man slowly climbed on the top of the stone wall and then paused again. He looked with a shudder at the gloomy river.
“I’ll do it,” he cried aloud, and was about to slide down, when a hand grasped his arm and a voice said:
“What will you do?”
In the light of the gas-lamp Bradley saw a man whose face seemed familiar and although he thought rapidly, “Where have I seen that man before?” he could not place him.
“Nothing,” answered Bradley sullenly.
“That’s right,” was the answer. “I’d do nothing of that kind, if I were you.”
“Of course you wouldn’t. You have everything that I haven’t—food, clothes, shelter. Certainly you wouldn’t. Why should you?”
“Why should you, if it comes to that?”
“Because ten shillings stands between me and a job. That’s why, if you want to know. There’s eight shillings railway fare, a shilling for something to eat to-night and a shilling for something in the morning. But I haven’t the ten shillings. So that’s why.”
“If I give you the ten shillings what assurance have I that you will not go and get drunk on it?”
“None at all. I have not asked you for ten shillings, nor for one. I have simply answered your question.”
“That is true. I will give you a pound if you will take it, and so if unfortunately you spent half of it in cheering yourself, you will still have enough left to get that job. What is the job?”
“I am a carpenter.”
“You are welcome to the pound.”
“I will take it gladly. But, mind you, I am not a beggar. I will take it if you give me your address, so that I may send it back to you when I earn it.”
By this time Bradley had come down on the pavement. The other man laughed quietly.
“I cannot agree to that. You are welcome to the money. More if you like. I merely doubled the sum you mentioned to provide for anything unseen.”
“Unless you let me return it, I will not take the money.”
“I have perfect confidence in your honesty. If I had not, I would not offer the money. I cannot give you my address, or, rather, I will not. If you will pay the pound to some charity or will give it to someone who is in need, I am more than satisfied. If you give it to the right man and tell him to do the same, the pound will do more good than ever it will in my pocket or in my usual way of spending it.”
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