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His address here, in London?" Yes." "Number 181, Grosvenor Place." "Ah, I thought it was the Place and yet I couldn't feel sure it wasn't the Square. Now you shall tie my tie for me." And, getting out a new collar, he told her that he would go to thank Mr. Barradine there and then.
He was almost overwhelmed by the noble turn of that last phrase. Friends! Nothing more, and nothing less. Not patron and dependents, but friends. "And, of course," Mr. Barradine was saying, "I want my friend to come out of it all right as I honestly believe he deserves to come out of it." Dale felt himself on the verge of breaking down and sobbing.
Before the horse was put into the wagonette and the trunk brought down-stairs, Dale had left the house and gone some distance along the road in the direction of the Barradine Arms. Even if Norah had not said that he need not be there at the moment of departure, he would have been unable to remain.
Barradine has bought him for hacking. 'Oh, I said, 'hacking and hunting are two things, of course, but " Then somebody interrupted. "Chestnut horse, wasn't it?" "Yes," said Allen, "one of these thoroughbred weeds, without a back that you can fit with to anything bigger than a racing saddle; and I've always maintained the same thing.
Barradine deigned to occupy for a night or a couple of nights for instance, when the Abbey House was being painted and he fled the smell of paint, when the Abbey House was closed and he came down from London to see his agent on business, when he wanted to make an early start at the cub-hunting and he couldn't trust the servants of the Abbey House to rouse him if he slept there.
All things in the post office itself had resumed their ordinary course, and she felt instinctively that up-stairs, as well as down-stairs, a normal order would rule again before very long. Outwardly she and Dale were just what they used to be. They were not, however, really living as husband and wife. She suffered, but made no complaint. All would come right. Mr. Barradine had not died intestate.
Here, as they turned into the highroad by the Barradine Arms and the cluster of adjacent cottages, they had a splendid panoramic view of the Abbey estate rolling downward on their left in wide, sylvan beauty as far as the eye could see.
"When you get to my time of life, you'll perhaps know what gout means." "Sorry you should be afflicted that way, sir," said Dale contritely. Mr. Barradine had rung a bell, and a servant was standing at the door. "Good day to you, Mr. Dale. You're going home, I suppose?" "Not for a fortnight, sir." "Ah! I hope to return to the Abbey on Thursday morning;" and quite obviously Mr.
It was working out just as one might hope. And it seemed that his courage, so lamentably shaken, began to return to him. He felt more himself. He marched off to a post office, and sent his telegram to Mavis: "Evening paper says fatal accident to Mr. Barradine. Is this true?"
Two hours afterward, when he had transacted his business and drew near to home, he was still thinking of Mr. Barradine and the Orphanage for unguarded innocent girls. He shook himself in the saddle, squared his shoulders, and held up his head as he rode into the yard. "Here, take my horse," he said sternly, as he swung his foot out of the stirrup.
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