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"I think you fellows are hard on Fenton," the musician protested, in response to some remark of Ainsworth's. "I don't see what he's done to make you all so down on him." "It isn't any thing that he has done," Tom Bently replied, "it is what he has become. He has developed an entirely new side of his nature, and a deucedly unpleasant one, too."
The approach of the time set for an exhibition of paintings in the gallery of the club turned the conversation toward art, and as several of the quondam Pagans were present, the old habits of speech reasserted themselves somewhat. "I understand Fenton's going to let us see his new picture," somebody said. "He is if he gets it done," Tom Bently answered.
"Oh, Boston is only an antiquarian society," laughed Rangely, "and these old tabbies are all honorary members. By Jove, though, there are some awfully pretty girls here." "I've observed that Boston girls are apt to be pretty when they give their minds to it," remarked Bently.
"You laughed," Luck pointed out laconically. Then his eyes twinkled suddenly. "'Laugh and the world laughs with you," he quoted shamelessly, and took a long, satisfying suck at his cigar. "The world won't step up and pay damages to Bently Brown," Martinson reminded him, "if that picture is released as it stands. How many have you made, so far?"
Does it blind the eye of reason? Rather, does it not illumine and expose the fallacies of logic and the falsities of the syllogism? Do two and two make four in human polity as in mathematics? Sometimes it would not seem so. Certainly you would have picked Mr. Bently Gibson, of The Gibson Woolen Mills, as a model juror.
If ever there was a case Then he heard an altercation going on fiercely between the salesman and Brown's summer friend, the latter insisting loudly that the detective was a perfect gentleman and entirely all right. "Nobody questions Mr. Brown's entire honesty," interposed Bently hastily, in a friendly way. "The question before us is the sufficiency of the evidence.
Bently had traveled widely, every where picking up graceful and artistic trifles stuffs from Algiers; rugs from Persia and Turkey; weapons from Tripoli and India and Tunis; musical instruments from Egypt and Spain; antiques from Greece and Germany and Italy; and pottery from every where.
Arthur had been watching his companions and smoking in silence. He smiled brilliantly at Ainsworth's challenge. "I'm overwhelmed by Bently's oaths," he said. "He outdoes himself to-night." "When it comes time for Tom's epitaph," observed Rangely, "I shall suggest that it be a dash." "Why do you swear so?" inquired Ainsworth. "Don't you think it in execrable taste?" "Taste?" laughed Bently.
"It isn't every model you can talk scandal about," chuckled Bently, in reply to Herman's remark. "We had a devilishly pretty fuss in Nick Featherstone's studio the other day. Nick found his match in the new model." "What new model?" inquired Fenton, arranging himself into an effective pose before the fire.
I hoped when my husband's estate was settled, I could have some real stones again; but, of course, I cannot now," she regretfully concluded. "Will you allow me to examine them, please?" Mr. Cutler asked, still sure that the stones were genuine. Mrs. Bently unhesitatingly removed one of the crescent ornaments from her ear and laid it in his hand.
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