United States or Mauritania ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
We had a regular prophesying of the whole business at Bramfell's; the great Fraide looked in for five minutes. I went on with him to the club afterwards and was there when the news came in. 'Twas a great night!" Loder's face lighted up. "I can imagine it," he said, with an unusual touch of warmth. Lakely watched him intently for a moment.
Then he paused and withdrew his hand. The horses had slackened speed, then stopped altogether as the carriage fell into line outside Bramfell House. Loder entered Lady Bramfell's feeling far more like an actor in a drama than an ordinary man in a peculiar situation.
"I'm afraid you think me very troublesome." The voice came again, delicately low and conciliatory. For a brief second Loder wondered uncertainly how long or how well Chilcote knew Lady Astrupp; then he dismissed the question. Chilcote had never mentioned her until to-night, and then casually as Lady Bramfell's sister. What a coward he was becoming in throwing the dice with Fate!
In the quiet and darkness of the place it seemed to possess a disproportionate weight almost the weight of a familiar thing. Then, with a sudden, unanalyzed touch of relief, he located the impression. It was the similarity to Lady Bramfell's sweet, slow tones that had stirred his mind. With a sense of satisfaction he drew the chair forward and sat down.
Blessington made a comical grimace. "But I'm working this on commercial principles," he said. "I keep the list, names and hours complete, and Lady Astrupp gazes, in blissful ignorance as to who her victims are. The whole thing is great simple and statistical." "For goodness' sake, Bobby, shut up!" Bramfell's round eyes were twinkling with amusement. "But my system " "Systems!
The echo of recollection stirred by Lady Bramfell's voice, the re-echo of it in the sister's tones; his own blindness, his own egregious assurance all struck across his mind. Meanwhile the party about Lillian drew nearer. He felt with instinctive certainty that the supper-room was its destination, but he remained motionless, held by a species of fatalism.
Word Of The Day