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Updated: May 11, 2025
I don't see why I shouldn't want to go to Oxford, or Switzerland either, for the matter o' that as well as another!" Father Greer, as Dr. Mangan remarked subsequently, took Barty's making a fool of himself very well. He put his head on one side, his black eyebrows went up, and he again uttered that succession of sniffs that served him for a laugh.
Why let me tell you, sir, at home, in the hall, between the ensign my uncle's ship bore through Trafalgar, and the small sword my grandfather carried at Blenheim, we have the belt John Barty wore that day." "His belt!" exclaimed Barnabas, "my John Barty's belt?" "So you see I should know what I am talking about.
Larry was undevout, careless, thinking little of spiritual things, so little, that he had scarcely troubled himself either to question or to accept what he had been taught, but he was quick to respond to emotion of any kind; now he listened, with an unaccustomed reverence, to Barty's voice, brokenly whispering the prayers of his Church.
"Larry, I believe the chance we've been waiting for is come or as good as come!" "Do you mean that it's Prendergast the Member who's dying? Do you mean my getting into Parliament?" Larry swung round on Barty, and fired the questions at him, quick as shots from a revolver. The colour rose again in Barty's face. His dark, shortsighted eyes, that were set on Larry, had a sudden glow in them.
Beginning with Barty's selling to my tenants, and then your father's people making trouble, and the Carmodys burning the covert, and all the rest of it! They're quite right! It's all my rotten fault! Christian, I'm going back to France! I can't face you after what I've brought on you!"
But she had resolved to cloak it all in silence, and pretended for a while not to remember the young man's declared intention when he left the house. "It seems odd to me," said Brooke, "that Uncle Barty should always live alone as he does. He must have a dreary time of it." "I don't know anything about your Uncle Barty's manner of living." "No; I suppose not. You and he are not friends."
What in his mother was laziness, was with him transmuted to languor; his father's vigour and decision became in Barty a sort of tepid obstinacy, and the Doctor's fierce and fighting allegiance to his Church reappeared in his son as a peevish conscientiousness, that had provoked a friend of the family to say: "Barty's a dam' bad solicitor!
Maybe He's got bigger work for you than for the little 'un." "Who is it?" His dry lips hardly framed the words. "It's Ann Barty's little chap as was passing. We thought 'twere but the glass." "Better a boy than a man," muttered another. Christopher paid no heed. He went out with the old Methodist beside him.
Herlihy, as she mounted the car with an agility as competent, and as unexpected, as that of a trespassing cow confronted with a stone-faced bank. Larry went home, and continued a letter to Christian that he had begun over night. He told her of Barty's visit, and of all that it was likely to involve. He said that he was very lonely, and he believed she had been gone a year.
'Rather, old chap; what do you take us for? this from Barty, with a knowing wink. 'What time did Vandeloup leave? asked Slivers, not paying any attention to Barty's pantomime. 'About twenty minutes to twelve. 'Oh! I suppose that was because he had to drive out to the Pactolus? 'Not such a fool, dear boy; he stayed all night in town.
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