Middletown transcript., 1909-05-08

Sp0k4AGu6 ~ gAOp O<AVA y 49,
comfortable position.
Well, then, why don't you re-
move me? she demanded, fash
ing a scornfDl look at him.
don't know the word that IN.
locks your paddock, he pointed
out. So-he rose-I'm afraid you'll
have to stay there till somebody
comes along who does.
If you are going to be aperfect
brute, protested the suffragette,
reddening, L
Well? inquired the Statesman,
pausing politely.
It's more than one word, she
said, looking down. It's-about-
two.
That, rejoined the Statesman,
only increases the difficulty. l
don't really see what is to be
done.
Then you are stupider than
thought! flashed the Suffragette.
I'm not going to stay here any
longer. You've got to unfasten
me.
Certainly, agreed the States
man, stepping toward her. It's
quite time you went to bed. !
tremble to think what your
mother would say if she saw you
now.
She knows, retorted the Suf.
fragette defiantly. 1 told her I
was coming.
Good heavens! circulated the
Statesman. And what did she
say?
She said, John won't let you in
at this time of night.
And John did, remarked the
Statesman, thoughtfully.
He had to, she explained.
OF course. And under these circum-
stances John had no alternative. shall
be compelled to dismiss John, l see.
You'll do nothing of the kind, she de-
clared. He's regular old dear, and we'll
keep bIm till he's hundred.
We? queried the Statesman. 1 under.
stood you to imply just now that our
er-our engagement was to be at an end?
I said you could please yourself, she
retorted. ] don't care-not bit.
But do. said the Statesman calmly.
] Icouldn't get on without you now-I
positively couldn't. Not even If you were
real Suffragette.
I am, she assured him.
You couldn't be, be denied. Not even
II you tried ever so hard-you are much
too sweet little rogue. Nature didn't
intend you for politics. Nature intended
you for-Well-for quite other things.
That's all you know about it, she
scoffed.
All don't know about it is not worth
knowing, he retalisted, with calm finality.
Did you say two words?
/ said about two-I am not quite sure
I-think there may be three. Il
The Statesman regarded her sternIy.
If you are not quite sure how many
words there are, how do you propose to
get yourself unclaimed, pra. ? lie de-
manded.
Don't be so ridiculousl she protested.
Unclaimed, indeed-as il / were q sort OF
wild beastl Besides, am sure. I'D
only forgotten for the moment. Three.
Then what are they2
l won't tell you-there. They're
private. Ring for John. I'D rather
John unfastened me, thanks.
If they're private, objected the States
man, don't think John is quite the
ah-proper person to hear them. OF
course, he added, reHectively, there's no
particular reason why You shouldn't IN.
fasten she paddock yourself.
There is a reason, she contradicted,
frowning. IL csn'T get at the letters
properly in this position. If you won't
But l will, interrupted the Statesman
esgerly.
I was going to say. call John, she
explained.
Quite unnecessary, 1 assure sou, he
declared.
Well, then, said the Suffragette, with |
sudden decision, the words-Nol / won't
tell you.
Il would be very awkward for you to
remain here all night, suggested the
Statesman impartially. Consider your
poor mothers anxiety.
Oh, well!-> Then | suppose l shall |
have to, she sighed.
What Remain here all night? I'm
possible!
Don't be SO absolutely idioticI she
mean, of course-to tell you. |
OF course, he agreed, blAndly. Three
Il think you saiu2
Yes. You'll have to-come close.
don't mind that bit, said the States
man.
It's-it's not necessary to come as close
as all that, she objected, not absolutely |
necessary
think it's easier, be pointed out.
Oh! Then che three words are-you
must repeat them aloud after me, please.
Now-are you Iistening2
Most attentiyeIy, he assured her.
Whisper, then-I-
Eh2. said the Statesman.
Love-
Love.
You