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Updated: July 2, 2025
Julian Casti was successful in his application for the post of dispenser at the All Saints' Hospital, and shortly after Easter he left the shop in Oxford Street, taking lodgings in Beaufort Street, Chelsea. His first evening there was spent in Waymark's company, and there was much talk of the progress his writing would make, now that his hours of liberty were so considerably extended.
Count Rosenberg, grand chamberlain of the emperor, came on a visit to Trieste in company with an Abbe Casti, whose acquaintance I wished to make on account of some extremely blasphemous poems he had written. However, I was disappointed; and instead of a man of parts, I found the abbe to be an impudent worthless fellow, whose only merit was a knack of versification.
Woodstock was waiting. "What's the matter?" he asked, examining the young man anxiously. "Nothing nothing!" "Does she seem well?" "I think so; yes," Casti replied, in a stifled voice. Then he asked hurriedly, "Where can Waymark be? What does it all mean?" Mr. Woodstock shook his head, looking annoyed. "I am convinced," Julian said, "that something is wrong. Surely it's time to make inquiries."
They were in the Isle of Wight; comfortably housed, with the sea before their eyes, and the boon of sunshine which Casti had so longed for. Waymark gave himself wholly to the invalid. He had no impulse to resume literary work; anything was welcome which enabled him to fill up the day and reach the morrow.
"A good enough one, I think. She'd been imposed on Mr. Casti and his wife as a respectable character, and she was causing trouble between them. She had to be got rid of somehow, and this was one step to it." "Was Mrs. Casti aware of your intention to take this step?" "No, she wasn't." "But you told her when you had done it?" "Yes, I did." The frankness of all this had its effect, of course.
"I detest the very name of Parliament, and could as soon read Todhunter on Conic Sections as the reports of a debate. Perhaps you're a mathematician?" This with a smile. "By no means," was the reply. "In fact," Casti went on, "I'm afraid you begin to think my interests are very narrow indeed. My opportunities have been small.
From that day to the present nothing more had been heard of Signor Casti, and all the care of his sister's child had fallen upon poor Smales, who was not too well provided with means to support his own small household. It was by this time understood that, on leaving school, he should come into the shop, and there qualify himself for the business of a chemist.
Tarlac took a small drink, returned the touch, and traded glasses to drink again. Then Hovan tapped him on the shoulder, and after they traded drinks and touches just once, this time he introduced the girls who had served the two of them, smiling widely. "Sharya and Casti my n'ka'esten are, from one birth." Tarlac greeted Casti as he had Sharya, impressed. Twin daughters!
It troubled him a little to find with what complete calmness he could await the result; often he said to himself that he must be sadly lacking in human sympathy. Julian Casti, on the other hand, had passed into a state of miserable deadness; Waymark in vain tried to excite hope in him. He came to his friend's every evening, and sat there for hours in dark reverie. "What will become of her!"
If after the lapse of six months from now she still desires to be released, I must know it, either from herself or from you. Write to me at the old address." Waymark and Casti spent their Christmas Eve together. They spoke freely of each other's affairs, saving that there was no mention of Ida. Waymark had of course said nothing of that parting between Ida and himself.
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