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He said the Atalanta was expected back from Africa immediately." "Well, and what of that? Is there anybody in whom you are interested coming home in the ship?" "Somebody whom I am afraid of is coming home in the ship." Mrs. Crayford's magnificent black eyes opened wide in amazement. "My dear Clara! do you really mean what you say?" "Wait a little, Lucy, and you shall judge for yourself.
They all forgot the martyred man who had saved him the man who was dying in Crayford's arms. Crayford tried once more to attract his attention to win his recognition while there was yet time. "Richard, speak to me! Speak to your old friend!" He look round; he vacantly repeated Crayford's last word. "Friend?" he said. "My eyes are dim, friend my mind is dull.
Aldersley, as Clara seems to have forgotten to do it for me. I am Mrs. Crayford. My husband is Lieutenant Crayford, of the Wanderer. Do you belong to that ship?" "I have not the honor, Mrs. Crayford. I belong to the Sea-mew." Mrs. Crayford's superb eyes looked shrewdly backward and forward between Clara and Francis Aldersley, and saw the untold sequel to Clara's story.
Crayford's face. "Have you seen anything of Clara?" he asked. "Is she still on the beach?" "She is following me to this place," Mrs. Crayford replied. "I have been speaking to her this morning. She is just as resolute as ever to insist on your telling her of the circumstances under which Frank is missing. As things are, you have no alternative but to answer her." "Help me to answer her, Lucy.
Critics and newspaper men were disposed to lift him on their shoulders if only he gave them the chance. The current of opinion favored him. Report of his work was good. Jaded critics, newspaper men who had seen and known too much, longed for novelty. Crayford's prophecy was coming true. America was turning its bright and sharp eyes toward the East.
"What right have you to ask?" he retorted, coarsely. Frank's blood was up. He forgot his promise to Clara to keep their engagement secret he forgot everything but the unbridled insolence of Wardour's language and manner. "A right which I insist on your respecting," he answered. "The right of being engaged to marry her." Crayford's steady eyes were still on the watch, and Wardour felt them on him.
Frank! you have a bad habit of letting your tongue run away with you. Don't repeat that stupid nickname when you talk of my good friend, Richard Wardour." "Your good friend? Crayford! your liking for that man amazes me." Crayford laid his hand kindly on Frank's shoulder. Of all the officers of the Sea-mew, Crayford's favorite was Frank. "Why should it amaze you?" he asked.
Apparently Madame Sennier's been saying it was really written for Sennier and had been promised to him." "That's a lie." "Of course it is. But she's spread herself on it finely, I can tell you. Crayford's simply delighted." "Delighted, when I'm accused of mean conduct, of stealing another man's property." "It's no use getting furious over our papers! Doesn't pay!
When we've got him thoroughly worked up over the libretto and the scenery prop., we'll begin to let him hear the music, but not a moment before. We can't be too careful, Mrs. Charmian. Crayford's a man who doesn't start going in a hurry on newly laid rails. He wants to test every sleeper pretty nearly.
Crayford, and you shall have him back again for half an hour. The Arctic expedition is to blame, my dear lady not the captain for parting man and wife. In Crayford's place, I should have left it to the bachelors to find the Northwest Passage, and have stopped at home with you!"
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