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We're simply a collection of natural affinities," Mitchy explained; "meeting perhaps principally in Mrs. Brook's drawing-room though sometimes also in old Van's, as you see, sometimes even in mine and governed at any rate everywhere by Mrs. Brook, in our mysterious ebbs and flows, very much as the tides are governed by the moon. As I say," Mitchy pursued, "you must join.
His companion, however, said nothing and he presently came round again. "No, I'm not absolutely sure of his having had it from Mitchy. If I were I should do something." "What would you do?" She put it as if she couldn't possibly imagine. "I'd speak to him." "To Harold?" "No that might just put it into his head."
Brook" Mitchy undertook to complete her question "as to the highest use to make of it? But see," he immediately added, "how perfectly competent to instruct her our friend now looks."
As if" she really kept it up "he hasn't plenty!" "It's only people like me," Mitchy threw out, "who have none?" "Yes people like you. People of no use, of no occupation and no importance. Like you, you know," she pursued, "there are so many." Then it was with no transition of tone that she added: "If you're bad, Mitchy, I won't tell you anything." "And if I'm good what will you tell me?
Not when he wants them so." "Mr. Longdon? Then that keeps up?" "'That'?" she was at a loss. "I mean his intimacy with Mitchy." "So far as it IS an intimacy." "But didn't you, by the way" and he looked again at his watch "tell me they're just about to turn up together?" "Oh not so very particularly together." "Mitchy first alone?" Vanderbank asked.
Once more Mitchy watched him revolve a little, but now, familiarly yet with a sharp emphasis, he himself resumed their colloquy. "See here, Mr. Longdon. Are you seriously taking him up?" Yet again, at the tone of this appeal, the old man perceptibly coloured. It was as if his friend had brought to the surface an inward excitement, and he laughed for embarrassment. "You see things with a freedom "
"Ah perhaps then for he and I," said Mrs. Brookenham, "don't agree, I feel, on two things in the world. So you think poor Mitchy," she went on, "who's the son of a shoemaker and who might be the grandson of a grasshopper, good enough for my child." The Duchess appreciated for a moment the superior fit of her glove. "I look facts in the face. It's exactly what I'm doing for Aggie."
The clear sincerity of this, even had there been nothing else, imposed a consideration that Mitchy now flagrantly could give, and the deference of his suggestion of difficulty only grew more deep. "I'm to do then, with this happy condition of hers, what you say YOU'VE done to 'try' it?"
It was a business sometimes really to hold her eyes, but they had, it must be said for her, their steady moments. She exchanged with Vanderbank a somewhat remarkable look, then, with an art of her own, broke short off without appearing to drop him. "The thing is, don't you think?" she appealed to Mitchy "for us not to be so awfully clever as to make it believed that we can never be simple.
Mitchett replied, "could be better than the present but if you've reasons for wanting a better place why shouldn't we go on the spot into another room?" Lord Petherton, at this enquiry, broke into instant mirth. "Well, of all the coolness, Mitchy! he does go at it, doesn't he, Mrs. Brook? What do you want to do in another room?" he demanded of his friend.
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