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I exclaimed, for I wanted an opportunity for another chat with the dark-eyed girl who was engaged to the man whose alias was Hornby. I particularly desired to ascertain the reason of her fear when I had mentioned the Lola, and whether she possessed any knowledge of Hylton Chater.
Chater, gnashing for blood and bones over the disaster to her first-born. She must be faced. George flared a torch to light the gloom: "But why should you go near her, dearest? Let me do it. I'll take the children back. I'll see her. I'll get your boxes." Even the sweetest women trudge through life handicapped by the preposterous burden of wishing to do what their sad little minds hold right.
Chater, speaking with a slow and extraordinary bitterness "if you had been a man, you would have come out and helped me." "But you had got out when I came to the window, my dear." "With the cabman, I mean." Mrs. Chater fired the word with alarming ferocity. "With the cabman. Did you not see that violent brute insulting me?" It was precisely because he had observed the episode that Mr.
"By Gad," he cried, "I'll thrash the life out of him! The swine! By Gad, I'll kill him!" She laid a hand upon his arm. "Georgie, dear," she pleaded. "Don't, don't take it like that. I haven't finished." Roughly he turned upon her. "Well, what else? What else?" "I haven't seen him since. He went away early this morning for the week-end. And I have not seen Mrs. Chater again either.
So well as might be he brushed his person; straightened his hat; clapped handkerchief to his mouth; past staring eyes, grinning faces, hurried out of the Park to bury himself in a cab. From a window Mrs. Chater saw the bruised figure of her darling boy alight; with palpitating heart rushed to greet him. "Bob! My boy! My boy! What has happened?" Her boy brushed past; bounded to his room.
"You can't expect me to say: 'George, I love you. It's ridiculous. It's like a funny story." "Oh, never mind what it's like. Do be serious, Mary. How can I be sure you love me if you won't tell me?" For the first moment since its happening the thought of Bob Chater and of Mrs. Chater passed completely from Mary's mind. She looked around: there was no soul in sight.
The owner and his friend Chater were in their berths asleep, when suddenly he discovered that the vessel was making no headway. They had, in fact, run upon the dangerous shoal without being aware of it. A strong sea was running with a stiff breeze, and although his seamanship was poor, he was capable enough to recognize at once that they were in a very perilous position.
A few years ago he was a well-known money-lender in the city, and in that capacity met the Baron, who, being in disgrace, required a loan. He was also in the habit of having certain shady transactions with that daring gang of continental thieves of whom Dick Archer and Hylton Chater were leaders.
Miss Humfray, I would not have thought it of you!" She cried: "Mr. Chater, I fell!"
"You're coming back soon, aren't you?" David cried. "You're not going away, are you, Miss Humf'ay?" implored Angela. Mrs. Chater shrilled: "Children, come away. Come here at once." Mary dropped one knee upon the mat; caught her arms about the children.
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