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I did not think so at first, but I admit it now. The gods made Sibyl Vane for you. Without her you would have been incomplete." "Thanks, Basil," answered Dorian Gray, pressing his hand. "I knew that you would understand me. Harry is so cynical, he terrifies me. But here is the orchestra. It is quite dreadful, but it only lasts for about five minutes.
The Rose of Sharon, five and twenty years before, would have been coy would have made believe to have done it by accident. But the Rose of Sharon, with all her beauty, would have had no attraction for Austen Vane.
It was then that Vane caught sight of Rofflash. "You're the fellow whom I knocked down on London Bridge on a certain night some little time ago," said he. "The very same," rejoined Rofflash with a grin which made his ugly face still uglier. "You took me unawares.
In the vulgar language in vogue at the period, however, Vichy water put the lid on that venture with a bang. . . . But even with champagne it is doubtful whether there would have been much doing, because well, because the man of wealth had his attention for the moment occupied elsewhere. To be exact on the other side of the table. . . ." "Ah!" said Vane, and his breath came in a sort of sigh.
She had never said as much before; and Miss Vane felt herself a little bit snubbed, and decided that the new singer had not at all good manners; but she meant to secure her for her next party nevertheless. She rather prided herself upon her parties. To her utter surprise and bewilderment, Miss Cynthia West absolutely declined to come.
The Count de Passy overheard the name, and turned. "Louise Duval," he said; "does Monsieur Vane know a Louise Duval?" "No; but a friend asked me to inquire after a lady of that name whom he had met many years ago at Paris." The Count mused a moment, and said, "Is it possible that your friend knew the family De Mauleon?" "I really can't say. What then?"
Speaker Doby a most convenient and congenial arrangement; farther down the board were State Senator Nat Billings, Mr. Mr. Tooting's description would not have stopped here. Sensations are common in the Pelican Hotel, but when Austen Vane walked in that evening between the Gaylords, father and son, many a hungry guest laid down his knife and fork and stared.
With a gesture of horrified protest, Nancy Smallwood sat back in her chair. "My dear Derek," she murmured. . . . "Far, far better than you and I do. I always mash my bread sauce up with the vegetables if no one's looking, and I'm certain he never would. He's most respectable. . . ." "My God!" said Vane, "as bad as that! I was hoping he'd eat peas with his knife."
Outside, the rain dripped from the massy flagstone eaves, and the song of the river stole in monotonous cadence into the room. Evelyn was silent and Vane said nothing for a while. He had been in the air all day, and though this was nothing new to him he was content to sit lazily still and leave the opening of conversation to his companion.
This, 1 P.M., is the feeding hour the animals are not yet on feed, but they are coming on. The wind vane left here in the spring shows a predominance of wind from the S.W. quarter. Maximum scratching, about S.W. by W. Sunday, November 5. Camp 3. 'Corner Camp. We came over the last lap of the first journey in good order ponies doing well in soft surface, but, of course, lightly loaded.
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