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And for the rest, hope unfolded warm-coloured visions indeed. During the weeks which had elapsed since Sir Adrian's departure, Captain Jack's visits to the island had been fitful and more or less secret He always came and left at night.
The quack separated the little coins in Adrian's hand with his forefinger, and answered gravely: "No, my son, but I am always glad to advance the cause of knowledge. There is still a great deal for you to learn at school, and the headache will prevent it. Here are the drops and, as it's you, I'll give this prescription for another arcanum into the bargain."
It is not merely that I paint from him, draw from him, model from him. Of course I have done all that. He has stood as Paris in dainty armor, and as Adonis with huntsman's cloak and polished boar- spear. Crowned with heavy lotus-blossoms, he has sat on the prow of Adrian's barge, looking into the green, turbid Nile.
He arose from his chair and took a seat beside Donald, who had been observing Strong closely. There could be no doubt that he had been attracted by Adrian's voice, but he gave no intimation that he knew the boys. "Glad to see you," said Donald, without taking his eyes from his man. "Won't you have another cup of coffee?" "Bet your life, neighbor!" Then as he lighted a fresh cigarette: "Smoke?"
She stood at her former place and looked for a moment in silence from one to another of the faces turned with different expressions of astonishment and anticipation towards her ruddy faces most of them, young, or old, handsome or homely, the honest English stamp upon each; and distinct from them all, Adrian's pallid, thoughtful features and his ardent eyes. Upon him her gaze rested the longest.
Yet, although he only saw her for a moment before she heard his entry and looked up, it was obvious to Foy that Elsa remained quite unconscious of the handsome Adrian's admiration, indeed, that her mind wandered far away from the magnificent adventures and highly coloured love scenes of which she was reading in her sweet, low voice.
Did you say you were a Landale of Pulwick? How the devil came you here then, and thus?" "Press-gang," was Adrian's laconic answer. The lad gave a prolonged whistle, and was lost for a moment in cogitation. "If you are really Mr. Landale," he began, adding hastily, as if to cover an implied admission "of course I have heard the name: it is well known in Lancashire you had better see the skipper.
Tell me, she is not Lady Travis Underwood's daughter?" "Oh no; she is Anna's sister, Adrian's sister." "So I told Lady Rotherwood, I was sure it was so." "The Travis Underwoods have no children, but they adopted Emilia when I took Anna, and they have brought three Vanderkists to this affair. Francie has never been from home before, it is all quite new to her."
The story surmises that, having carefully read every word of the letter, he chose this way of letting Gwen know of a fluctuation in Adrian's eye-symptoms; which, he had inferred, would not reach her otherwise. But he did not wish false hopes to be built on it. The deciphering of the illegibilities by Gwen, under correctives from himself, would exactly meet the case.
"It would suit me better, I could spare you better," Anthony said. Adrian eyed him suspiciously. "In August? We 're in August now, are n't we?" "I believe so," said Anthony. "Either August or late July. One could find out from the almanac, I suppose. It would suit me very well if you could take your holiday now at once." Adrian's suspicion became acute. "What are you up to?
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