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Updated: May 26, 2025
Then she stood there, her back pressed against the mahogany panels, indicating only by the distance she had placed between herself and her hostess the consciousness of an irregular position. "I am not Georgina Gressie! I am Georgina Benyon, and it has become plain, within a short time, that the natural consequence will take place." Mrs. Portico was altogether bewildered.
He began to question her guardedly. "Do you know Rainharbour well?" he asked. "I live here," Beth answered. "Then I suppose you know every one in the place," he pursued. "Oh, no," she rejoined. "I know very few people, except my own, of course." "Which is considered the principal family here?" he asked. "The Benyon family is the biggest and the wickedest, I should think," she answered casually.
You've done a monstrous thing, and, instead of being terrified when you're found out, you sit there coolly discussing it, as if you were a grown-up person. And then you're so queer. You ought to be a child, but you're not. Lady Benyon likes you; but even she says you're not a child, and never were. You say things no sane child would ever think of, and very few grown-up people.
Presently the group separated. The little heaps of paper on the long table in the inner room had grown from tens to hundreds; the end was near. Quisanté's agent stood motionless behind the clerks who counted, Jimmy Benyon looking over his shoulder eagerly. Smiley regarded the heaps for a moment or two and then walked across to Sir Winterton.
The Directors therefore regret to be unable to present any report of his examination. But they have every reason to believe that his opinion would have been no less encouraging than those of the other gentlemen consulted." May turned back to the list of directors. Three out of the six she did not know; the other three were Quisanté himself, Jimmy Benyon, and Sir Winterton Mildmay.
If you remember my father and mother they are round in Twelfth Street, just the same you must admit that I paid for my folly!" "I have never understood you; I don't understand you now," said Benyon. She looked at him a moment. "I adored you." "I could damn you with a word!" he went on.
A few had known Benyon, more Gaspard, all Medland the three figures of this drama; many remembered the fourth, the central character, who had not tarried for the end of it: the man was rare who did not spend a thought on the bright girl, whose face was so familiar in these walls, and who must be dragged into it. Where was she? asked one. She was gone.
I half pacified him by delivering lord Windermear's polite message; but he continued his interrogations: and although I had pointed out to him that a De Benyon would never be guilty of an untruth, I am afraid I told some half dozen, on this occasion; but I consoled myself with the reflection that, in the code of honour of a fashionable man, he is bound, if necessary, to tell falsehoods where a lady is concerned; so I said I had driven through the streets looking at the houses, and had twice stopped and had gone in to examine them.
"Arrah, thin, it isn't a bad character you'd be afther givin' your own niece," Beth blarneyed; and then she turned up her naughty eyes to the ceiling and chanted softly: "What will Jimmie-wimmie give his duckie-dearie to be good? A nice sweet kiss!" Uncle James's big white face became suddenly empurpled. "Gracious! he's swallowed wrong," Lady Benyon exclaimed in alarm. "Drink something.
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