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Wodehouse, P. G. (Pelham Grenville), 1881-1975

"Piccadilly Jim"

A little while ago it
didn't seem to matter much. I liked him. He was good-looking and
good-tempered. I felt that we should get along quite well and be
as happy as most people are. That seemed as near perfection as
one could expect to get nowadays, so--well, that's how it was."
"But you can't marry him! It's out of the question!"
"I've promised."
"You must break your promise."
"I can't do that."
"You must!"
"I can't. One must play the game."
Jimmy groped for words. "But in this case you mustn't--it's
awful--in this special case--" He broke off. He saw the trap he
was in. He could not denounce that crook without exposing
himself. And from that he still shrank. Ann's prejudice against
Jimmy Crocker might have its root in a trivial and absurd
grievance, but it had been growing through the years, and who
could say how strong it was now?
Ann came a step towards him, then paused doubtfully. Then, as if
making up her mind, she drew near and touched his sleeve.
"I'm sorry," she said.
There was a silence.
"I'm sorry!"
She moved away. The door closed softly behind her. Jimmy scarcely
knew that she had gone. He sat down in that deep chair which was
Mr. Pett's favourite, and stared sightlessly at the ceiling. And
then, how many minutes or hours later he did not know, the sharp
click of the door-handle roused him. He sprang from the chair.
Was it Ann, come back?
It was not Ann.


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