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Updated: May 19, 2025
Neither of them realized that the talk had already lasted three hours. In their absorption they had forgotten even to feed the fire, and yet both Mr. Basnett in his exposition, and Mary in her interrogation, carefully preserved a kind of formality calculated to check the desire of the human mind for irrelevant discussion.
"You'll stay and dine?" she said casually, returning to her seat. "No," Ralph replied. She did not press him further. They sat side by side without speaking, and Mary reached her hand for her work basket, and took out her sewing and threaded a needle. "That's a clever young man," Ralph observed, referring to Mr. Basnett. "I'm glad you thought so.
"You've been dining out?" she asked again, looking, with a little smile, at the blue silk and the pearl-sewn shoes. "No, at home. Are you starting something new?" Katharine hazarded, rather hesitatingly, looking at the papers. "We are," Mr. Basnett replied. He said no more. "I'm thinking of leaving our friends in Russell Square," Mary explained. "I see. And then you will do something else."
Basnett seemed to her a good world, although not a romantic or beautiful place or, to put it figuratively, a place where any line of blue mist softly linked tree to tree upon the horizon.
Basnett was only stiff upon the surface; there was an intelligence in his face which attracted her intelligence. "When will the public know?" she asked. "What d'you mean about us?" Mr. Basnett asked, with a little smile. "That depends upon many things," said Mary.
"Of course, I agree with you," she heard Ralph say, in this strange voice, to Mr. Basnett. "But there's more that might be done. Have you seen Judson, for instance? You should make a point of getting him." Mary returned with the quinine. "Judson's address?" Mr. Basnett inquired, pulling out his notebook and preparing to write.
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