He said to her, regarding her with very apparent
pleasure and esteem, "Well, that's very nice of you. That really
is very nice of you. And it's most wonderful. It is indeed. Do you
know, I must have walked more than a mile looking for a letter-box
and I daresay I should have walked another mile and then forgotten
it and taken the letter home again." He addressed Aunt Belle: "It's
a most astonishing thing, Mrs. Pyke Pounce, but I cannot post a
letter. I positively cannot post a single letter. When I say single,
I do not mean I can post no letter at all. No, no. Far from it.
I mean I can post no letter singly, by itself, solus. My daily
correspondence, my office batch, I take out in a bundle, perhaps in
a table basket. That is simple. But a single letter--as you see, a
clever young lady like this has to find a box for me or I might carry
the thing for days together. Astonishing that, you know. Astonishing,
annoying, and mind you, sometimes serious and embarrassing."
"Why, you busy, busy person, you!" cried Aunt Belle with her
customary air towards a man of shaking her finger at him. "You
very busy person! Fancy a basket full of correspondence! Why what
a heap you must have!"
Mr. Simcox said he had indeed a heap. "Sometimes I think more than
I can manage."
"Indeed," agreed Aunt Belle, "you don't seem to have much time to
spare. Why, I haven't seen you in my drawing-room for quite a month
("You busy little creature, you," expressed without being stated).
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