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The Shadow

           DarlingandNanatorecallnow,butnotsolittleifthatwastobeMichael’slastnightinthenursery.

           Theygoonwiththeirrecollections.

           ’ItwasthenthatIrushedinlikeatornado,wasn’tit?’Mr.Darlingwouldsay,scorninghimself;andindeedhehadbeenlikeatornado.

           Perhapstherewassomeexcuseforhim.He,too,hadbeendressingfortheparty,andallhadgonewellwithhimuntilhecametohistie.Itisanastoundingthingtohavetotell,butthisman,thoughheknewaboutstocksandshares,hadnorealmasteryofhistie.Sometimesthethingyieldedtohimwithoutacontest,buttherewereoccasionswhenitwouldhavebeenbetterforthehouseifhehadswallowedhisprideandusedamade-uptie.

           Thiswassuchanoccasion.Hecamerushingintothenurserywiththecrumpledlittlebruteofatieinhishand.

           ’Why,whatisthematter,fatherdear?’

           ’Matter!’heyelled;hereallyyelled.’Thistie,itwillnottie.’Hebecamedangerouslysarcastic.’Notroundmyneck!Roundthebed-post!Ohyes,twentytimeshaveImadeituproundthebed-post,butroundmyneck,no!Ohdearno!begstobeexcused!’

           HethoughtMrs.Darlingwasnotsufficientlyimpressed,andhewentonsternly,’Iwarnyouofthis,mother,thatunlessthistieisroundmyneckwedon’tgoouttodinnerto-night,andifIdon’tgoouttodinnerto-night,Inevergototheofficeagain,andifIdon’tgototheofficeagain,youandIstarve,andourchildrenwillbeflungintothestreets.’

           EventhenMrs.Darlingwasplacid.

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