Our Mr. Wrenn: The Romantic Adventures of a Gentle ManLewis, Sinclair
General
Our Mr. Wrenn: The Romantic Adventures of a Gentle Man
Lewis, Sinclair
Courtship -- Fiction; Love stories; Man-woman relationships -- Fiction; Middle-aged men -- United States -- Fiction
As Mr. Wrenn returned to his desk he stopped at a window on the
corridor and coveted the bright late afternoon. The cornices of lofty
buildings glistened; the sunset shone fierily through the
glass-inclosed layer-like upper floors. He wanted to be out there in
the streets with the shopping crowds. Old Goglefogle didn’t consider
him; why should he consider the firm?
CHAPTER II
HE WALKS WITH MISS THERESA
As he left the Souvenir Company building after working late at taking
inventory and roamed down toward Fourteenth Street, Mr. Wrenn felt
forlornly aimless. The worst of it all was that he could not go to the
Nickelorion for moving pictures; not after having been cut by the
ticket-taker. Then, there before him was the glaring sign of the
Nickelorion tempting him; a bill with “Great Train Robbery Film
Tonight” made his heart thump like stair-climbing—and he dashed at the
ticket-booth with a nickel doughtily extended. He felt queer about the
scalp as the cashier girl slid out a coupon. Why did she seem to be
watching him so closely? As he dropped the ticket in the chopper he
tried to glance away from the Brass-button Man. For one- nineteenth of
a second he kept his head turned. It turned back of itself; he stared
full at the man, half bowed—and received a hearty absent-minded nod and
a “Fine evenin’.” He sang to himself a monotonous song of great joy.
When he stumbled over the feet of a large German in getting to a seat,
he apologized as though he were accustomed to laugh easily with many
friends.
The train-robbery film was—well, he kept repeating “Gee!” to himself
pantingly. How the masked men did sneak, simply sneak and sneak, behind
the bushes! Mr. Wrenn shrank as one of them leered out of the picture
at him. How gallantly the train dashed toward the robbers, to the
spirit-stirring roll of the snare-drum. The rush from the bushes
followed; the battle with detectives concealed in the express-car. Mr.
Wrenn was standing sturdily and shooting coolly with the slender
hawk-faced Pinkerton man in puttees; with him he leaped to horse and
followed the robbers through the forest. He stayed through the whole
program twice to see the train robbery again.
As he started to go out he found the ticket-taker changing his long
light-blue robe of state for a highly commonplace sack-coat without
brass buttons. In his astonishment at seeing how a Highness could be
transformed into an every-day man, Mr. Wrenn stopped, and, having
stopped, spoke:
“Uh—that was quite a—quite a picture—that train robbery. Wasn’t it.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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