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Updated: June 27, 2025
Her emergence, after ten years, into Shaftesbury Avenue and Soho had severely shaken Braybrooke's faith in her sobriety, fostered though it had been, created even, by her ten years of distinguished retirement. Damped-down fires sometimes blaze forth unexpectedly and rage with fury. He hoped he was doing the right thing.
Braybrooke sat down in their box, and Craven was sure they were all talking about Lady Sellingworth and him. He saw Braybrooke's broad-fingered hand go to his beard and was almost positive his old friend was on the defensive. He was surely saying, "No, really, I don't think so! I feel convinced there is nothing in it!"
He heard of them dining together at the Bella Napoli, playing golf together at Beaconsfield or was it Chorley Wood? He was not quite sure. He heard of young Craven being seen at Claridge's going up in the lift to Miss Van Tuyn's floor. All this was very encouraging. Braybrooke's former fears were swept away and his confidence in his social sense was re-established upon its throne.
But suddenly she remembered Camber. He was angry with her, but he had very soon consoled himself for her departure. "I went away quite unexpectedly," she said. "I had to go like that." "I I hope you weren't ill?" He recalled Braybrooke's remarks about doctors. Perhaps she had really been ill. Perhaps something had happened abroad, and he had done her a wrong. "No, I haven't been ill.
Perhaps it was all lies." "No, no. There is something in it." He looked meditative. "It certainly was a sudden business," he presently added. "I have often thought so. It came about after her return from Paris some ten years ago that time when her jewels were stolen." "Were they?" said Craven. "Were they!" Braybrooke's tone just then really did rather suggest the world's governess.
After a slight pause, very intentional on Braybrooke's part, Craven replied: "Miss Van Tuyn knows such lots of people." "To be sure! And Lady Archie, though a dear woman, is perhaps a little inclined to gossip." "Lady Archie Brooke?" "Yes. She has met Miss Van Tuyn two or three times in Glebe Place, it seems, walking with a man whom she describes as a marvel of good looks. But there's Antring.
She had not seen Miss Van Tuyn since the evening in Soho, nor Braybrooke since his visit to Berkeley Square to tell her about his trip to Paris, but she had seen Craven three times, and each time alone. Their intimacy had deepened with a rapidity which now almost startled her as she thought of it, holding Braybrooke's unanswered note.
"On my honour, I only meant that life inevitably brings with it changes. I am sure you will bear me out in that." "I don't know about bearing you out," said Miss Cronin, looking rather helplessly at Francis Braybrooke's fairly tall and well-nourished figure. "But why should Beryl want to change? She is very happy as she is." "I know I know.
"Pax, Turkey. I'm an ass." "Don't stop, Turkey. Isn't your Uncle Stalky a great man?" "Great man," said Beetle. "All the same bug-huntin's a filthy business," said McTurk. "How the deuce does one begin?" "This way," said Stalky, turning to some fags' lockers behind him. "Fags are dabs at Natural History. Here's young Braybrooke's botany-case."
I confess it had just occurred to me that with her beauty, her cleverness, and her money for one has to think of money, unfortunately in these difficult days she would be a very desirable wife for a rising ambitious man." "No doubt. And who is he?" It was against all Braybrooke's instincts to burst out abruptly into the open. He scarcely knew what to do.
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