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and a few jokes gave Martin a temporary splurge of prosperity. Not only did he partially pay up his bills, but he had sufficient balance left to redeem his black suit and wheel. The latter, by virtue of a twisted crank-hanger, required repairing, and, as a matter of friendliness with his future brother-in-law, he sent it to Von Schmidts shop. The afternoon of the same day Martin was pleased by the wheel being delivered by a small boy. Von Schmidt was also inclined to be friendly, was Martins conclusion from this unusual favor. Repaired wheels usually had to be called for. But when he examined the wheel, he discovered no repairs had been made. A little later in the day he telephoned his sisters betrothed, and learned that that person didnt want anything to do with him in any shape, manner, or form. Hermann von Schmidt, Martin answered cheerfully, Ive a good mind to come over and punch that Dutch nose of yours. You come to my shop, came the reply, an Ill send for the police. An Ill put you through, too. Oh, I know you, but you cant make no rough-house with me. I dont want nothin to do with the likes of you. Youre a loafer, thats what, an I aint asleep. You aint goin to do no spongin off me just because Im marryin your sister. Why dont you go to work an earn an honest livin, eh? Answer me that. Martins philosophy asserted itself, dissipating his anger, and he hung up the receiver with a long whistle of incredulous amusement. But after the amusement came the reaction, and he was oppressed by his loneliness. Nobody understood him, nobody seemed to have any use for him, except Brissenden, and Brissenden had disappeared, God alone knew where. Twilight was falling as Martin left the fruit store and turned homeward, his marketing on his arm. At the corner an electric car had stopped, and at sight of a lean, familiar figure alighting, his heart leapt with joy. It was Brissenden, and in the fleeting glimpse, ere the car started up, Martin noted the overcoat pockets, one bulging with books, the other bulging with a quart bottle of whiskey. |
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