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Updated: May 1, 2025
Though that is a test, what a man will do for a woman, not what a woman will do for a man she loves and pities." As Cairy shot an ugly glance at him, Vickers saw that he was fast angering the man past all hope of influence. But he was careless now, having utterly failed to avert evil from the one he loved most in the world, and he poured out recklessly his bitter feeling:
He had seized this chance of being alone with Cairy, and now that they were beyond the danger of interruption his blood beat uncomfortably in his head and he could not speak for fear of uttering the wrong word.... When they reached the river, the two men paused involuntarily in the shade and looked back up the slope to the Farm, lying in the warm haze on the brow of the hill.
Cairy, who had been summoned by telegram to the city, would have preferred to be driven to the junction by Isabelle, but when Vickers had suggested that he knew a short cut by a shady path along the river, he had felt obliged to accept the implied invitation. He was debating why Price had suddenly evinced this desire to be with him, for he felt sure that Vickers disliked him.
Lane commented. "It's an old habit of mine to carry it and practise when I have a chance," Cairy remarked, breaking the revolver. After extracting the shells, he handed the pistol to Isabelle. "Made in Paris," she read from the chased plate. "Yes; it's a pretty toy, don't you think?" "It's a curious shell," Lane remarked, picking up one of the empty shells from the ground.
"Not dining out to-night, Tom?" It was a little joke they had, that when Cairy was not with them he was "dining out."... When Cairy had left, Conny rose from her lounging position as if to resume the burden of life. "It's the Commission?" she inquired. "Yes! I sent you the governor's letter."
"I prefer to let her be the judge of that," Cairy retorted, walking ahead stiffly and exaggerating his limp. "You know she cannot be a judge of what is best just now." "I think she can judge of herself better than any outsider!" Vickers flushed, controlled himself, and said almost humbly: "I know you care for her, Tom. We both do. So I thought we might discuss it amicably."
And if you will point out the direction, I think I will hurry on by myself and get my train." "My God, no! We won't drop it not yet. Not until you have heard a little more what I have in mind.... I think I know you, Cairy, better than my sister knows you. Would you make love to a poor woman, who had a lot of children, and take her?
Her life, she thought, was arduous, and she met its demands admirably, she also thought. The subtleties of feeling and perception never troubled her. She felt entitled to her sentimental repose with Cairy as she felt entitled to her well-ordered house. She did not see that her "affair" interfered with her duties, or with Percy, or with the children.
"I sent your message, Isabelle." And he went to dress for dinner. The dinner that night of the three men and the woman was tense and still at first. All the radiance had faded from Isabelle's face, leaving it white, and she moved as if she were numb. Vickers, watching her face, was sad at heart, miserable as he had been since he had seen her and Cairy together.
It ran all the winter, and this new one they say will also make a great hit." Vickers, who remembered Cairy in college as one always endeavoring after things out of his reach, looked mildly surprised. "I hadn't heard that he was a dramatist," he said. "I wish you would do something!"
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