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Updated: June 29, 2025
Amarinth," she answered in a low voice. "His epigrams are his opinions. His actions are performed vicariously in conversation. If he were to be silent he would cease to live." "You don't know Esmé at all, really," Reggie said. "And you know him far too well," she answered. He looked at her for a moment rather curiously. Sunday afternoon is always a characteristic time.
And the central figure of all was Esmé Amarinth, who stood leaning upon an ebony stick with a silver knob, surveying his audience with the peculiar smile of humourous self-satisfaction that was so characteristic of his large-featured face. Just before he began his address Mrs. Windsor fluttered up to him, and whispered in his ear "Don't make any classical allusions, will you, Esmé? I promised Mr.
Amarinth says that charity always begins abroad, but one couldn't have a school treat in Belgrave Square, could one? It would be quite sacrilege, or bad form, which is worse. We must try and invent some new games. You and Lord Reggie must put your heads together." "Thank you, Betty," Lady Locke said, moving rather hastily on toward the garden. Mrs.
The little boys were all hopelessly in love with Lord Reggie, to whom they had learnt, over the anthem, to draw near with a certain confidence, but they gazed upon Amarinth with an awe that made their bosoms heave, and could not reply to his remarks without drawing in their breath at the same time a circumstance which rendered their artless communications less lucidly audible than might have been desired.
We are really down here to have a quiet, serious week a sort of retreat, you know. Mr. Amarinth is holding it. I hope nobody will have a fit this time. Ah! of course you did not come last year. Do you like Chenecote? A sweet village, isn't it?" "Very sweet indeed, outwardly.
I wish he had not broken up all the idle comers before we came. I should so like to have met one." "Mr. Smith has decidedly been premature," Amarinth said gravely. "Clergymen often are. They take away our sins before we have had time to sit down with them. There go the school children, I suppose. They look intensely clean. So many people look intensely clean, and nothing else.
They are all deserving of a place on the line." "I think he means well," said Mrs. Windsor, taking some strawberries. "I am afraid so," Amarinth answered. "People who mean well always do badly. They are like the ladies who wear clothes that don't fit them in order to show their piety. Good intentions are invariably ungrammatical."
But presently Amarinth, after reading all the advertisements on the cover of his newspaper, put it down slowly and glanced around, with the puffy expression of a person suppressing a grown-up yawn. His eyes wandered about, to Mrs. Windsor immersed in amateur gardening of the destructive kind, to Lord Reggie in his hammock, to Madame Valtesi dropping stitches in her low chair. He sighed and spoke
It is to be parody, or, as he calls it, an elevation of 'Three blind mice, and is to be about youth and life. It ought to be amusing." "Mr. Amarinth is generally amusing." "Yes, he has got hold of a good recipe for making the world laugh and think him clever. The only mistake he makes is, that he sometimes serves up only the recipe, and omits the dish that ought to be the result of it altogether.
We had in the veterinary surgeon in a hurry, but all he could say was 'Fire him! and as I was not very intimate with the Professor, I hardly liked to do that. He has such a very violent temper. This year we shall have a good deal of music. Lord Reggie and Mr. Amarinth both play, and they are arranging a little programme. All old music, you know. They hate Wagner and the moderns.
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