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Thursdale sat gazing at her intently; his hand was not yet on the clue. "And even when you had told her that " "Even when I had told her that I had HAD no status that I had never stood anywhere, in any sense she meant," said Mrs. Vervain, slowly "even then she wasn't satisfied, it seems." He uttered an uneasy exclamation. "She didn't believe you, you mean?"
I've no doubt you and Miss Thursdale would not in the least mind being left to the last," with a sly smile. "Oh er ah, by Jove!" gasped Windomshire, with a glance at the still faces of the young women. He saw no relief there. "Blamed cat!" muttered Dauntless, gritting his teeth. "Mr. Dauntless, will you and Miss Courtenay come with us in this boat? I want some one to keep the snakes away; Mr.
The sun was peeping over the hilltops and shooting his merry glance across the rain-soaked lowlands when Eleanor Thursdale awoke from her final snatch of slumber. A hundred feverish lapses into restless subconsciousness had marked the passage of nearly as many miles of clatter and turmoil.
He continued to look at her blankly. "You sent for her?" "I didn't have to she wrote and asked me last night. But no doubt you have seen her since." Thursdale sat silent. He was trying to separate his words from his thoughts, but they still clung together inextricably. "I saw her off just now at the station." "And she didn't tell you that she had been here again?"
Got out for a breath of air." The silence that followed this observation seemed to call for further explanations. "Miss Thursdale retired soon after dinner, wretchedly under the weather. That rather left me adrift, don't you know. I'm not playing bridge this year." "You're not? Why not, pray?" "Chiefly because of last year. My Mercedes came on from New York yesterday and I got her out for a spin.
It had taken Thursdale seven years to form this fine talent; but the result justified the effort. At the crucial moment she had been perfect: her way of greeting Miss Gaynor had made him regret that he had announced his engagement by letter.
When one visits the cemetery one expects to find the angel on the tombstone, and it struck Thursdale as another proof of his friend's good taste that she had been in no undue haste to change her habits.
Thursdale to intercept him in his flight with the governess. "Damn your impudence!" "Stand aside, Windomshire," exclaimed Joe, white with anger and dread. "I'm going to find her. What have you done with her?" "You sha'n't interfere, Dauntless," cried Windomshire, squaring himself. "She's going to be my wife, and " "I guess NOT! Get out of my way, or "
She excelled in the rare art of taking things for granted, and Thursdale felt a pardonable pride in the thought that she owed her excellence to his training. Early in his career Thursdale had made the mistake, at the outset of his acquaintance with a lady, of telling her that he loved her and exacting the same avowal in return.
He had leaned there so often that the attitude touched a pulse which set up a throbbing in her throat. "Oh, my poor Thursdale!" she murmured. "I suppose it's rather ridiculous," he owned; and as she remained silent, he added, with a sudden break "Or have you another reason for pitying me?" Her answer was another question. "Have you been back to your rooms since you left her?"
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