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Arbuthnot, who inspired trust and liking even in Tube officials, felt that she would be idiotic to lose the opportunity of being in Italy in the particular conditions offered, and that she and this calm-browed woman between them would certainly be able to curb the other one when she had her attacks. So she said, taking Mrs. Arbuthnot's offered hand, "Very well. I waive references."
But if she was wiser, older and calmer, Mrs. Arbuthnot's new friend nevertheless seemed to her to be the one who impelled. Incoherent, she yet impelled. She appeared to have, apart from her need of help, an upsetting kind of character. She had a curious infectiousness. She led one on. And the way her unsteady mind leaped at conclusions wrong ones, of course; witness the one that she, Mrs.
Martyn goes back in a few weeks; Arbuthnot's returned already; Ellis and Clay are putting the last touches to a new feeder-line the Government's built as relief-work. Morten's dead he was a Bengal man, though; you wouldn't know him. 'Pon my word, you and Will Miss Martyn seem to have come through it as well as anybody." "Oh, how is she, by-the-way?" The voice went up and down as he spoke.
Arbuthnot's heart was, as we have said, the resuscitation of the old Oriental Translation fund, which was originally started in 1824, the Society handling it having been established by Royal Charter.
Wilkins had a vision revealing to her how to reduce the rent. Mrs. Arbuthnot's plan was simple, and completely successful.
By his Excellency's Command, ALEXANDER M'LEAY. SIR, I do myself the honor to forward, for the Governor's perusal, a copy of my journal up to the date of my arrival at Mount Harris. I should not have directed the messenger to return so soon, had I not subsequently advanced to Mount Foster, and surveyed the country from that eminence. I could distinctly see Arbuthnot's Range to the eastward.
"Blackmail is perhaps the correct word technically," admitted the newspaper owner, "but bluff there you go wrong. You've forgotten one thing; that Arbuthnot's arrest and confession would make the whole story news. We stand ready to arrest Arbuthnot, and he stands ready to confess." There was a long, tense minute of silence. Then "What do you want?"
Indeed, the whole of March was filled with unpleasant, anxious moments. It was an uneasy month. Mrs. Arbuthnot's conscience, made super-sensitive by years of pampering, could not reconcile what she was doing with its own high standard of what was right. It gave her little peace. It nudged her at her prayers.
There is much indeed in this foolish pamphlet to laugh at, from the motto in the first page down to some wisdom about cows in the last. One part of it indeed is solemn enough, we mean a certain jeu d'esprit of Mr Sadler's touching a tract of Dr Arbuthnot's.
In doing this, we struck on a second branch of the Castlereagh, leading W. by N. into a plain, which it of course inundates at times, and running up it, we found its bed at the point of separation, to be considerably higher than that of the main channel, which still continued of pure sand and was stamped all over with the prints of the feet of natives, kangaroos, emus, and wild dogs, We then turned again to the head of the lagoon, and took the following bearings of Arbuthnot's range: Mount Exmouth .......... E. 90 S. Centre Range ........... E. 35 E. Vernon's Peak .......... E. 20 S.
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