"
Arthur tried to be angry.
"That's all very well--" he began to grumble.
But he could not be angry. The pincers and the anvil had suddenly ceased
their torment. He was free. He was not a disgraced man. He would catch
the train easily. All would be well. All would be as the practical
Simeon had arranged that it should be. And in advancing the clock Simeon
had acted for the best. Of course, it _was_ safer to be on the safe
side! In an affair such as that in which he was engaged, he felt, and he
honestly admitted to himself, that he would have been nowhere without
Simeon.
"Light the stove first, man," Simeon enjoined him. "There's been a
change in the weather, I bet. It's as cold as the very deuce."
Yes, it was very cold. Arthur now noticed the cold. Strange--or rather
not strange--that he had not noticed it before! He lit the gas stove,
which exploded with its usual disconcerting _plop_, and a marvellously
agreeable warmth began to charm his senses. He continued his dressing as
near as possible to the source of this exquisite warmth. Then Simeon, in
his leisurely manner, arose out of bed without a word, put his feet into
slippers and lit the gas.
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