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McCutcheon, George Barr, 1866-1928

"Mr. Bingle"

He always hated anything that caused him to
become red in the face.
"It's quite a relief," said Mrs. Bingle, brightening. It would have
been dreadful if anything HAD been the matter with the lobster.
But Mr. Force knew nothing whatever about the suspected lobster and
being in considerable doubt as to just how much of Miss Glenn's story
the Bingles had learned, very naturally believed that the good lady
was concerned about Mrs. Force's peace of mind rather than her state
of health. He grew perfectly scarlet and mumbled something about his
wife sleeping like a log, and then hastily followed Mr. Bingle out of
the room.
"Troubles never come singly, do they, Force?" said Bingle as they
mounted the stairs. He sighed deeply.
"So they say," said Force, also sighing. He was thinking of the
interview that was to come. He was wondering just how he was going to
explain things to Mr. Bingle.
"She isn't to be married till spring, but--Oh, well, I suppose I
shouldn't complain." Mr. Force stopped stock-still on the stairs.
"Mar-married?" he gasped.


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