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So that her face, at all events, was, if not unique, at least unlike any other face one had ever seen. Most faces, we know, can be reduced to certain general types even Iris's face might be classified while of yours, my brother, there are, no doubt, multitudes. Miss Holland, however, had good eyes bright, clear gray the eyes of a woman who knows what she wants and means to get it if she can.
He was puzzled by the singular unanimity of purpose displayed by his shipmates. But that was their affair. His was to insure Iris's safety; the future he must leave to Providence. And, indeed, Providence contrived things very differently. By nightfall the launch was a hundred miles west of the island.
Neither of them thought it wise to disturb the mind of Iris by any mention of the man. Some days later, however, Mrs. Vimpany came downstairs in a widow's cap. To Iris's look of interrogation she replied calmly, "Yes, I heard the other day. He is dead. Is it not better even for him, perhaps that he should be dead? He can do no more wickedness; he can bring misery into no more households.
After a time he felt Iris's hand placed timidly on his shoulder. He raised his head and saw her eyes shining. "Thank you," he said. "We are quits now." Fierce emotions are necessarily transient, but for the hour they exhaust the psychic capacity. The sailor had gone through such mental stress before it was yet noon that he was benumbed, wholly incapable of further sensation.
They came in an irresistible army, though, fortunately for Iris's continued sanity, the greater number scurried into the darkness of the men's quarters. She was watching them with fascinated eyes, though not daring to withdraw her head from under the coat, when she heard a ghastly yell from beneath, and an erie face appeared above the stairway. It was Watts, mad with fright and drink.
Had men and gods utterly forsaken him? In solitude, he groaned and gnashed his teeth. And no deliverance came. Reaction made him at times the fervent lover, and these interludes supported Iris's courage. "Let it once be over!" she kept saying to herself. She trusted in her love and in her womanhood.
"Try and remember it. `When Poverty comes in at the door, Love flies out of the window. There never was a truer word spoken." She leant back in her chair. The interview was ended. Iris's visit to Paradise Court was over.
Toplady been within easy reach, he would have gone to see her; but she wrote from the north of Scotland. He could only await the result of Iris's letter. To the news concerning May Tomalin, he gave scarcely a thought. Mr. Yabsley, of Northampton! Exceeding weariness sank him for a few hours in sleep; but before dawn he was tossing again on the waves of miserable doubt.
What more can any girl want for any station? My dear, I am happy to think that a gentleman is your lover. Let him tell us, now Lala Roy and me to our very faces, if he thinks we have, between us, made you a lady." Arnold stooped and kissed her hand. "There is no more perfect lady," he said, "in all the land." "Iris's father, Mr.
"Why, Diana!" said Iris. Iris's voice was quite fresh. It had a different note in it from all the voices which for weeks had sounded in little Diana's ears. She was lying in a partial stupor, but now she opened her eyes very wide. "Iris," she said; "Iris." And a smile broke all over her face. Iris ran up to the bedside.
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