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Updated: June 2, 2025
"And I prefer TO discuss it... Do you fancy you can drag the name of Foote through the daily press as though it were that of some dancing girl or political mountebank, and have no reference made of it? Tell me exactly what happened last night and why it was permitted to happen." "Father " Bonbright's voice was scarcely audible, yet it was alive and quivering with pain.
Her eyes met Bonbright's eyes and she grinned. No other word can describe it. It was not an impertinent grin, nor a familiar grin, nor a COMMON grin. It was spontaneous, unstudied it lay at the opposite end of the scale from Bonbright Foote VI's smile. Somehow the flash of it COMFORTED Bonbright. His sensations responded to it. It was a grin that radiated with well wishes for all the world.
The strain, the anxiety, a sleepless night of suffering and the struggle she had undergone to find the answer to Bonbright's question had tried her to the depths of her soul. Now she gave quite away and, unwillingly enough, sobbed and mumbled on Hilda Lightener's shoulder, and clung to the larger girl pitifully, as a frightened baby clings to its mother.
I promised I would walk home with him." "Good night," said Bonbright. "His name is Dulac?" "Yes." Men like Dulac the work they were engaged upon had not fallen within the circle of Bonbright's experience. Bonbright's training and instincts had all been aristocratic. At Harvard he had belonged to the most exclusive clubs and had associated with youths of training similar to his.
From the moment of reading Bonbright's succinct note she was determined to go back to the little cottage and to her mother. But she put it off for a day, then for another day, and days grew into weeks and months. "To-morrow I'll move," she told herself each night, but next day she was no nearer to uprooting herself than she had been the day before. She gave herself no reasons for remaining.
It was calmer, more reasonable now than it would be again. He arose to his feet. "Mr. Chairman," he said, distinctly. The chairman paused; Bonbright's neighbors turned to stare; men all over the hall rose and craned their necks to have a view of the interrupter. "Sit down!...Shut up!" came cries from here and there. Then other cries, angry cries. "It's Foote!... It's the boss!
He had decided that Bonbright's affairs stood in need of woman's counsel. Mrs. Lightener appeared first. "Why, Bonbright!" she exclaimed. "Where's Hilda?" asked Lightener. "Need her, too." "She's coming, dear," said Mrs. Lightener. There are people whose mere presence brings relief.
At the direct challenge Bonbright raised his eyes to his father's face appealingly. "Father " he said. "I state your position?" his father said, sternly. Against Bonbright's will he felt the accumulated power of the family will, the family tradition. He had been reared in its shadow. Its grip lay firm upon him.
That she did not receive what she had thought to receive was no fault of Bonbright's and she must endure what was to be endured. She must be honest with him as honesty showed its face to her. To be honest with him meant to her to deceive him daily, hourly, to make her life a lie. He was cheated enough as matters stood and he did not deserve to be cheated. He was good, gentle, a man.
A bill from Bonbright's pocketbook added to the persuasion.... An hour's wait developed that a green van belonging to the company had moved goods from that address and the spinster was vindicated. "Brought 'em here and stored 'em," said the young man. "Here's the name Frazer. Ruth Frazer." "That's it," said Bonbright. "That's it." "Storage hain't been paid.... No word from the party.
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