Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1909-02-25
The Trifler


Il want to know" said the Trider.
II just want to know how long he is
going to be-thats ALL"
He seated himself comfortably as he
spoke-that is to say, as comfortably as
the limitations of office furniture per-
mitted-in the only armchair in the
room, and crossing his legs, directed a
gracious smile at the Typist, who sat
with the fingers of one dainty hand
poised impatiently over the keys of the
typewriter at the other side of the table
which divided them.
Il am sorry l cannot tell you" re-
piled the Typist, gazing pointedly at a
heap of unanswered letters before her.
AZ do not know how long Mr.. Calthrop
will be exactly"
"Ah," observed the Trif1er in medi-
tative tone, there are so very few
things-are there nOt?-so very few
things in the world that anybody does
seem to know exactly Perhaps it has
never struck you how difficult it is to
acquire exact knowledge of almost any
thingY'
NO" said the Typist, at never has"
81 thought 1t probably hadn't" ad-
mitted the Trif1er affably. Yet, take
quite a common illustration. If you ask
a passerby the time, he Will either tell
you off-hand, or he will glance at his
watch-if he is a polite person-and tell
you that is 1t about half-past 3, say.
Inn RI ~
may be-whereas, in point of fact, 1t
never is within five minutes of the time
he asserts. His watch is wrong, or he
hasn't taken the trouble to count the
divisions on the dial between each five
minutes, What wonderful thing that
typewriter of yours is
This typewriter" She looked up at
him with mild surprise. "Why, it is
quite an ordinary one"
Il suppose So" agreed the Tritler,
little regretfully. And you really can
write with it?"
We'll, should not be here If l could
not" retorted the Typist; should ~
II don't know" said the Trifier. I'm
here, and can't"
"Oh, that's quite different. Besides"
she ganced at him defantly-"what
are you here for?"
For the matter of that" replied the
Trifier, meeting her glance with unruf-
fed composure. what are you here
for?'
The Typist colored violently, and her
eyes dropped in front of her
81 think that Is rather an imperti-
nent question: she said. in low tone
The Trifer gave an audible sigh.
1T seemed TO me rather a pertinent
one" be remarked, in a disappointed
voice. "Of course, you know what I'm
here for?'
ITO see Mr.. Calthrop-you told me-
But he's not in-I told you"
TT doesn't matter at ALL" rejoined the
Trifer airily. iii wait. l have moth
ing TO do for the next hour or so, and
this is-er"-he gazed round the room
with expansive appreciation-"an ex-
traordinarily comfortable office"
Hadn't you-better go?" asked the
Typist in low tone.
60! Before seeing Calthrop? Why,
he would never forgive me-" protested
the Trifier. Il couldn't really dream of
going yet. Besides -"
Il don't see that there is any be
sides to keep you here" said the Typ
list.
"They say love is blind" murmured
the Trifler, with an air of philospohic
abstraction.
Il don't understand your said the
Typist, drawing herself up.
Il am not In the least surprised at
that" said the Trifer amiably. Very
few people do. 1t has long been my fate
to be misunderstood. Yet, 1 hoped-he
paused and looked at the Typist little
uneasily. IT hoped" he repeated-"by