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"Well?" demanded Coppinger. "What do you make of it, Mallett?" Mallett removed his glasses and sniffed. "Don't let's deceive ourselves," he said, with a hasty glance round. "This chap's out to make trouble. He's no fool, either. If he gets into the Council we shall have an implacable enemy. And he's every chance.
The others are all intimate with each other, and it was as well to post you as to their various relationships." "One thing, Mallett. I hope Lady Greendale is not in any way a marrying woman. I am not like Mr. Pickwick, afraid of widows, and have perfect confidence in my power to resist temptation; but at the same time it makes all the difference in the world to one's comfort.
This was not, she told herself, disloyalty to her mother, for had not that mother, whom she loved and painfully missed, sent her to this place? Her mother was generous and sweet; she would grudge no late-found allegiance to Reginald Mallett.
The main trouble with Duane Mallett seemed to be his gaily cynical willingness to respond to any advance, however slight, that any pretty woman offered.
On Monday Colonel Mallett died about sundown; on Wednesday the Hon. John D. Ellis, while examining an automatic revolver in his bath-room, met with one of those unfortunate and fatal accidents which sometimes happen in times of great financial depression. It had been raining all day; Dysart had not felt very well, and Klawber's unpleasant performance made him ill.
All eyes were immediately fixed on Vivian, and the faces of the Classics were triumphant with smiles; those of the manager's particular friends, the Romantics, we may call them, were clouded; but who shall describe the countenance of Mallett? In a moment the school broke up with an agitated and tumultuous uproar. "No stranger!" shouted St. Leger Smith; "no stranger!" vociferated a prepared gang.
Of course, I shall race a bit with her next year, though I have bought her more for cruising. "I hope that you and Lady Greendale will favour me with your company, on her first cruise after the season ends. I know it is of no use asking before that." "I should like it immensely, Major Mallett. It would be delightful. How many can you carry?" "Eight comfortably.
Mallett took a good deal of interest in social affairs. Anyway, she came and confided in us about this." "I suppose you and Wallingford discussed it?" suggested Brent. "Yes," replied Wellesley. "Briefly, on the night before his death." "Was that the reason of your saying at the inquest that there was no jealousy between you, at the time of his death, as regards Mrs. Saumarez?" "Just so!
"You will write to us sometimes, I hope," Sir John said, when Mallett rose to leave. "I won't promise to write often, Sir John.
The constable who came to inform me of what had happened mentioned that you'd come, and we were just talking But I'll introduce you to these gentlemen, sir; allow me Mr. Mallett, our esteemed bank manager. Mr. Coppinger, our respected borough treasurer."
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