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McCutcheon, George Barr, 1866-1928

"Mr. Bingle"

Bingle firmly.
"Great Scott, man, what difference can it make to you? You can adopt
another child to-morrow and fill her place. It isn't as if she were
your own child. You don't know what it is to have a child of your own
--your own flesh and blood. You CAN'T have a father's feeling for--"
"That will do, Force! You've said enough. The matter stands as it is.
I'll tell you something else though before we part: I don't want you
coming to this house annoying Agnes Glenn's child. I shall tell my
wife all that you have told me and I'd advise you to tell yours,
because I don't want you to put your foot inside my door until you can
come here with Mrs. Force and humbly--you notice I say humbly?--
implore us to give up that which belongs to us by virtue of that old
law of salvage. I have already wished you a Merry Christmas, Mr.
Force. Now permit me to bid you good morning."
He strode to the study door and opened it. His chin was high and his
eyes were uncommonly bright. The hem of the dressing gown was farther
from the floor than it had ever been during his ownership.


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