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Updated: June 24, 2025
Clarke when she was passing through an unpleasant experience; he was Daventry's good friend; he was also a friend of Mrs. Chetwinde and of Esme Darlington; naturally, therefore, Mrs. Clarke was inclined to number him among those who had "stuck to her" when she was being cruelly attacked. Where was the awkwardness in the situation?
Grundy can be brought to comprehension of such a phenomenon!" murmured Mrs. Chetwinde. It was obvious to Dion that his two friends feared for the result. The Judge had left the bench. An hour passed by, and the chime of a clock striking five dropped down coolly, almost frostily, to the hot and curious crowd. Mrs. Clarke sat very still.
Beadon Clarke never lifted his eyes from his knees. All the women in court, except Mrs. Chetwinde and Mrs. Clarke, were looking strangely alive and conscious. Dion had forgotten everything except Stamboul and the life of unwisdom. Suppose Mrs.
Chetwinde drifted up to her; and three or four young men hovered near to her, evidently desirous of putting in a word. The success of her leaped to the eye. Dion saw it and glowed. But the excitement in him persisted, and he began to move towards the far side of the great room in search of Mrs. Clarke.
He hurried away. Dion's place was again beside Mrs. Chetwinde, who looked unusually alive, and whose vagueness had been swept away by something anxiety for her friend, perhaps, or the excitement of following day after day an unusually emotional cause celebre. Now, as Sir John Addington stood up to continue his speech on Mrs. Clarke's behalf, begun on the previous day, Mrs.
When the Judge had finished his task and the jury retired to consider their verdict, it was past four o'clock. "What do you think?" Dion said in a low voice to Mrs. Chetwinde. "About the summing-up?" "Yes." "It has left things very much as I expected. Any danger there is lies in Monsieur Dumeny." "Do you know him?" "Oh, yes. I stayed with Cynthia once in Constantinople. He took us about."
Chetwinde. "Of course, with pleasure." "Your Rosamund ?" Her eyes were on him for a moment. "She won't expect me at any particular time." "Mr. Daventry can come too." Dion never forgot their difficult exit from the court.
"I shouldn't think she can ever have wanted anything so much as she wants the right verdict to-day." "I don't know that," Mrs. Chetwinde replied, with a rather disconcerting dryness. She was using her fan slowly and monotonously, as if, perhaps, she were trying to make her mind calm by the repetition of a physical act.
All those bodies and minds and souls which had been in the church had evaporated into the night. Mrs. Chetwinde and Esme Darlington had wanted to speak to Rosamund, but she had slipped out of the church quickly. She did not wish to talk to any one. "Ego dormio et cor meum vigilat." What an odd little turn, or twist, the preacher had given to the meaning of those words!
When at length they were driving away towards Claridge's Hotel, Dion was able once more to meet the eyes of his companions, and again he was amazed at the self-possession of Mrs. Clarke. Really she seemed as composed, as completely mistress of herself, as when he had first seen her standing near the statue of Echo in the drawing-room of Mrs. Chetwinde.
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