"
The tears had dried in Mr. Blithers' eyes but he wiped them time and
again as he read this amazing letter,--this staggering exhibition of
prodigality. He swore a little at first, but toward the end even that
prerogative failed him. He set out in quest of his wife. Not that he
expected her to say any more than he had said, but that he wanted her
to see at a glance what kind of a child she had brought into the
world and to forever hold her peace in future when he undertook to
speak his mind.
He could not understand why his wife laughed softly to herself as she
read, and he looked on in simple amazement when she deliberately
undertook to count the words. She counted them in a whisper and he
couldn't stand it. He went down where the children were shrieking
over a game of quoits and felt singularly peaceful and undisturbed.
It was nearly bed-time before word came from his managers in Paris.
Bed-time had no meaning for him after he had worked out the message
by the code. It is true that he observed a life-long custom and went
to bed, but he did not do it for the purpose of going to sleep.
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