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Locke, William John, 1863-1930

"The Red Planet"

It was only
the self-assertion of Nature. He had gone splendidly through his
ordeal, having braced himself up for it. He had not braced himself
up, however, sufficiently to go through the other and far longer
ordeal of hiding his secret from his wife. So of course he went to
pieces.
After Cliffe had left me, with his desire for information
unsatisfied, I rang up Wellings Park. It was the Sunday morning
after the reception. To my surprise, Sir Anthony answered me; for
he was an old-fashioned country churchgoer and plague, pestilence,
famine, battle, murder and sudden death had never been known to
keep him out of his accustomed pew on Sunday morning. Edith, he
informed me, had gone to church; he himself, being as nervous as a
cat, had funked it; he was afraid lest he might get up in the
middle of the sermon and curse the Vicar.
"If that's so," said I, "come round here and talk sense. I've
something important to say to you."
He agreed and shortly afterwards he arrived. I was shocked to see
him. His ruddy face had yellowed and the firm flesh had loosened
and sagged. I had never noticed that his stubbly hair was so grey.
He could scarcely sit still on the chair by my bedside.


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