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As he did so, he was conscious of a curious coldness, even of dampness, in the hand which had shaken that of Mallow. Mallow's hand had a clammy touch clammy, but firm and sure. There was no tremor in the long, thin fingers nor at the lips the thin, ascetic lips, as of a secret-service man but in his eyes was a dark fire of purpose.
He looked cold and calm, but there was an excited gleam in his large eyes which showed that his calmness masked some emotion, the cause of which Cuthbert could not fathom. "I have come to see you about young Saxon," he said. "Really," answered Mallow coolly, although surprised, "what can you have to say to me about him." "He is your friend " "Pardon me. I can hardly call him so.
Cuthbert knew that the young fellow had been "born tired"! and although something of an idler himself, liked Basil none the more for his laziness. Had Mallow been poor he would certainly have earned his bread, but he had a good income and did not work. And, after all, he only pursued the way of life in which he had been brought up.
It was unfortunate that Mallow won from him three-fourths of the money he had brought to the club, and won it with a smile not easy to forgive. Dyck had at last secured sudden success in a scheme of his cards when Mallow asked with a sneer: "Did you learn that at your home in heaven?" "Don't they teach it where you live in hell?" was Dyck's reply.
I have a cold spot in my head." Mallow deposited his bag with a sigh of relief. "Glad it's no worse. Anybody can cure a cold in the head." "Sit down and light up while I tell you about it." In a few sentences Gray made known the story of Ozark Briskow's infatuation, and the reason for his own interest therein. "The woman is of the common 'get-rich-quick' variety," he concluded, "and she won't do."
He despised Mallow's statues and adored Mallow's wife, and yet was distinctly fond of Mallow, to whom, in turn, he was equally dear. Mrs Mallow rejoiced in the statues though she preferred, when pressed, the busts; and if she was visibly attached to Peter Brench it was because of his affection for Morgan.
It'll only shock them, and do our circulation harm." Gregory snatched up the page and handed it to the girl who sat at the typewriter in the corner. "Read that, please, Miss Mallow." The girl read without raising her eyes. "Well, is it what Mrs. Shortman says?" The girl handed it back with a blush. "It's perfect, of course, in itself, but I think Mrs. Shortman is right.
The fishing party returned to Mallow the following morning. They were in high spirits, full of stories and cracking jokes about each other's prowess or otherwise especially the "otherwise," although, both men united in praising Penelope's exploits as a fisherwoman. "Beginner's luck, of course!" chaffed Barry. "It was your first serious attempt at fishing, wasn't it, Penny?" "Yes.
A talk on this subject would be too painful, and to escape from it he spoke of the beauty of the trees about the garden and the flowers in the garden, calling Father O'Grady's attention to the chrysanthemums, and, not willing to be outdone in horticulture, the London priest began to talk about the Japanese mallow in his garden, Father Oliver listening indifferently, saying, when it came to him to make a remark, that the time had come to put in the bulbs.
A pungent smell had spread through the shop, a smell of simples, which she brought with her in her clothes and greasy, tumbled hair; the sickly sweetness of mallow, the sharp odour of elderseed, the bitter effluvia of rhubarb, but, above all, the hot whiff of peppermint, which seemed like her very breath. She made a gesture of feigned surprise.
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