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Miss Vancourt is seriously injured but I MAY save her life. She is not dead." Something snapped like a broken harp-string behind Walden's temples, the horrible tension was relieved. "Not dead not dead?" he muttered "Not dead? Forsyth, are you sure?" "Sure!" His face changed and softened, a sudden sweet moisture freshened his eyes. "Thank God!" he murmured.
She cared nothing for herself, but she was full of dread lest Walden's name should be bandied up and down on the scurrilous tongues of that 'upper class' throng, who, because they spend their lives in nothing nobler than political intrigue and sensual indulgence, are politely set aside as froth and scum by the saner, cleaner world, and classified as the 'Smart Set. Roxmouth watched her furtively.
Walden's bones, and that Mr. Walden wishes Sir Morton Pippitt were miles away from him! They shouldn't have faced each other. But how very, very superior to all the lot Mr. Walden looks! he really IS handsome! he has such an intellectual head. There's Gigue chattering away to poor old Miss Fosby! oh dear! Miss Fosby will never understand him! What a motley crew!
Spruce curtseyed again at the respect for her own importance which was implied in Walden's last sentence, and slowly sidled out, the 'Passon' watching her with a smile as she trotted down the passage from his study to a door which led to the kitchen and basement. "Now she'll go and tell all her story again to Hester and the cook," he said to himself; "And how she will enjoy herself to be sure!
Same year, removes to No. 16 Mitre Court Buildings, Temple. 1809, removes to No. 4 Inner Temple Lane. 1817, removes to Russell Street, Covent Garden. 1823, removes to Colebrook Row, Islington. 1826, removes to Enfield. 1829, removes into lodgings in Enfield. 1830, lodges in Southampton Buildings. 1833, lives at Mrs. Walden's, in Church Street, Edmonton; where he dies on 27th December, 1834.
Outside, in the small garden, among mignonette and early flowering sweetpeas, Plato sat on his huge haunches in lion-like dignity, blinking at the sun, while Walden's terrier Nebbie executed absurd but entirely friendly gambols in front of him, now pouncing down on two forepaws with nose to ground and eyes leering sideways, now wagging an excited tail with excessive violence to demonstrate goodwill and a desire for amity. and anon giving a short yelp of suppressed feeling, to all of which conciliatory approaches Plato gave no other response than a vast yawn and meditative stare.
Ann Walden, like Marcia Lowe, had no doubts but his sister evidently had had, and suddenly a bitter hatred filled Ann Walden's soul toward the dead woman she had never known. "She who should have known him best," Ann Walden's thoughts ran burningly on "she to doubt him and let all the years of injustice go on!"
Mandeville Poreham, severely, when she in her turn heard the news "I heard that Miss Vancourt had insisted positively INSISTED on Mr. Walden's visiting her nearly every day, and I trembled for him! MY girls have gone quite crazy about Miss Vancourt ever since they met her at Sir Morton Pippitt's garden-party, but I have NEVER changed my opinion.
With Walden went Henry Scaggs, afterward explorer for the Henderson Land Company, William Elevens and Charles Cox, the famous Virginia hunters, one Newman, and some fifteen other stout pioneers. Their itinerary may be traced from the names given to natural objects in honor of members of the party Walden's Mountain and Walden's Creek, Scaggs' Ridge and Newman's Ridge.
He'd more or less resigned himself to the postponement of his personal desires. Nedda, for example. He wasn't quite sure Perhaps, after all But time passed, and he finished his electronic job. He came out of overdrive and made his observations and corrected his course. Finally, there came a moment when the fiery ball which was Walden's sun shone brightly in the vision plates.
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