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Updated: June 27, 2025
"Because if I'd taken her at her word, I shouldn't have been playing fair." At the recurrence of that phrase "playing fair," a momentary annoyance crept into Braithwaite's eyes. "I've always heard," he commenced, "that in love and war " "Everything's fair," Tabs ended his quotation. "Well, in this case, it isn't.
The best poem of his that I have seen was published in Contemporary Verse in 1917, and makes a fine recessional to Mr. Braithwaite's Anthology. We need you now, strong guardians of our hearts, Now, when a darkness lies on sea and land, When we of weakening faith forget our parts And bow before the falling of the sand.
The silence seemed to call for a final climax. The ex-valet cleared his throat. And it was to his ex-valet that Tabs listened; he had forgotten the General. It was as though the grimness of reality had interrupted a piece of play-acting. There was less heat in Braithwaite's voice now and more reproach. "You said nothing about caste in those days, when you hurried us to the shambles.
And now The mate of the eagle was a trifler with peacocks and vultures. The man whose face had been molded by his last thought into an expression of serene faithfulness, was recalled only as one who had lived envenomed by disloyalty. Braithwaite, the aristocrat in courage, was now distinguished for his cowardice; he himself was at one and the same time Braithwaite's rival and grudging critic.
He handed the glasses to Henry, who made a long examination of the boat and then, sighing, passed them back to the Major. Major Braithwaite's survey was not so long and he looked puzzled when he took the glasses down. "Now, what in the name of Neptune do you make of it, young sir?" he asked. "It's a flatboat that once belonged to an emigrant party," said Henry.
It makes one almost believe that you're a round-the-corner person yourself." He had said it without consciousness of magnanimity. There was nothing magnanimous about stating the truth according to his code of honor. He was seeing the bleak look that would come into Braithwaite's face should he hear of this happening.
"If I did my chances would be at an end." "If you believe that," Tabs sought for the most lenient words, "you know what you're doing. You'd despise to cheat at cards, but you don't mind cheating the woman whom you profess to love best. And then there's Ann." "I'd rather not discuss Ann." The abrupt pain in Braithwaite's tone betrayed the grumbling ache of an old wound.
He glanced at his wrist-watch. "Barely six o'clock! Upon my word, I don't relish the idea of her being disturbed. Braithwaite's such a hot-head. For all I care, they can stop here as long as they like. I'll take a holiday so as not to embarrass them." He faced Lady Dawn with troubled frankness. "The question is: are they married? I've been trying to figure things out.
There was a sort of sneer in this, which Redclyffe did not well know how to understand; and there was a look on Braithwaite's face, as he said it, that made him think of a condemned soul, who should be dressed in magnificent robes, and surrounded with the mockery of state, splendor, and happiness, who, if he should be congratulated on his fortunate and blissful situation, would probably wear just such a look, and speak in just that tone.
As often happens at such midnight symposiums, the two friends found themselves in a more kindly and confidential vein than had happened before, great as had been the kindness and confidence already grown up between them. Redclyffe told his friend of Lord Braithwaite's invitation, and of his own resolution to accept it. "Why not?
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