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Jerome, Jerome K. (Jerome Klapka), 1859-1927

"Tommy and Co."

"
"We?"
"I mean that Clodd had noticed."
I'm glad it was Clodd that noticed them, not you, dad, thought
Tommy to herself. They'd have been pretty obvious if you had
noticed them.
"It naturally made me anxious," confessed Peter. "You see, we know
absolutely nothing of the fellow."
"Absolutely nothing," agreed Tommy.
"He may be a man of the highest integrity. Personally, I think he
is. I like him. On the other hand, he may be a thorough-paced
scoundrel. I don't believe for a moment that he is, but he may be.
Impossible to say."
"Quite impossible," agreed Tommy.
"Considered merely as a journalist, it doesn't matter. He writes
well. He has brains. There's an end of it."
"He is very painstaking," agreed Tommy.
"Personally," added Peter, "I like the fellow." Tommy had returned
to her work.
Of what use was Peter in a crisis of this kind? Peter couldn't
scold. Peter couldn't bully. The only person to talk to Tommy as
Tommy knew she needed to be talked to was one Jane, a young woman
of dignity with sense of the proprieties.
"I do hope that at least you are feeling ashamed of yourself,"
remarked Jane to Tommy that same night, as the twain sat together
in their little bedroom.
"Done nothing to be ashamed of," growled Tommy.


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