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Where the Blue Begins

Chapter 6 SIX

Word Count: 2378    |    Released on: 28/11/2017

ts of the t

perfect wor

n heaven has retreated, lest her placid purity be too nearly tempted by that brave tragic spell. In the city which is maddest of all, Gissing had come to search for sanity. In the

here. Noble and beautiful? Aye, for even folly may have the majesty of magnitude. Hasty, cruel, shallow? Agreed, but where in this terrene orb will you find it otherwise? I know all that can be said against her; and yet in her great library of streets, vast and

slept in one of the little traffic-towers that perch on stilts up above Fifth Avenue. As a matter of fact, it was that one near St. Patrick's Cathedral. He had ridden up the Avenue in a taxi, intending to go to the Plaza (just for a bit of splurge after his domestic confinement). As the cab went by, he saw the traffic-tower, dark and empty, and thought what a pleasant place to sleep. So he asked the driver to let him out at the Cathedral, and after being sure that he

d a room on the top floor of a quiet brownstone house in the West Seventies. It was not large, and he had to go down a flight for his bath; the gas burner over the bed whistled; the dust was rather startling after the clean count

Pennsylvania Station. On it he wrote Arrived safely. Hard a

uch sound advice from his uncle, who was a member of the Union Kennel and quite a prominent dog-about-town. But Gissing had the secretive pride of i

tures. Far down the gentle slopes of that glimmering roadway he could see the rolling stream of limousines, dazzles of sunlight caught on their polished flanks. A faint blue haze of gasoline fumes hung

n-nothing vulgar, but still an evident stir, with repressed yelps and a genteel, horrified bustle. He hastened to the spot, and through the crowd saw someone lying on the floor. An extremely beautiful sales-damsel, charmingly clad in black crepe de

d of heat prostration," she

ver know what will happen next, do y

rm. On the seventh floor, down a quiet corridor behind the bedroom sui

o see Mr.

enior or Mr.

Gissing to himself. "Mr. Beag

u an app

" he

eared, and returned. "Thi

run), Mr. Beagle senior must be near the age of retirement. Very likely (he said to himself) that will soon occur; there will

. Beagle junior looked at him so inqui

ruding," said Gissing, "bu

. Beagle junior, "but we do

u courant with the affairs of the store. One has just died,

d Mr. Beagle seized it. He listened,

put down the receiver. "Well, si

sing; "but I think I understand the

icular routine in regard to candidates for that position. You will readily perceive that it

dusted his shoes w

you on your good fortune. It was mere hazard that I was in the store. To-d

said Mr. Beagle,

inattention. He heard the soft sigh of the pneumatic tubes as they received money and blew it to some distant coffer: this money, he thought, was already partly his. That square-cut creature whom he presently discerned following him was undoubtedly the store detective: he smiled to think what a pleasant anecdote this would be when he was admitted to junior partnership. Then he went, finally, to

dressing booths, and put on his regalia. His tweeds, in a neat package, he checke

rivate corridor. There were several ladies: one was pouring tea. Mr. Beagle junior came forward. The vice-president (such was Mr. Beagle junior's rank, Gissing had learned by the sign on his door) still wore his business garb o

," said Mr. Beagle. "Let

he tea-urn, recei

on?" she said

Avenue could this kind of thing happen. He looked down t

matter of fact, he hated tea so sweet; but he felt it was strate

"Ah, Mrs. Pomeranian has them. Mrs. Po

im to several more ladies in rapid succession. Gissing passed along the line, bowing slightly but with courteous interest to each. To each one he raised his eyebrows and permitted himself a small significant smile, as though to convey that this was a moment he had long been

ce-president, "this is my

indeed very old: his white hair hung over his eyes, he spoke with growling severity. Gissing's manner to the old merchant was one of respectful reassurance: he attempted to make an impres

num cooking pot?" growled t

Basement," said

" cried th

sing saw that all the ladies had vanis

thinks that if he can handle a teacup and a meringue while being introduced to ladies, he can manage anything on the main aisle downstai

r off for lunch," said the sen

, but the capable secretary had already removed them. He poured himself a second cup

e is a little matter that we have no

d thoughtfully o

lars a week

ill only take four weeks to pay

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