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Updated: June 13, 2025
If there had been ten Aunt Barbaras in the room, Christie could not have restrained the expression of surprise and pleasure that rose to her lips at the sight of Effie's familiar handwriting, and her hands quite trembled as she took it from the little boy. "Now, Claudie," said the young lady, coming forward, "it is time for you to go with Christie. Say `good-night' to father and Aunt Barbara."
There was a slight pause. Then Claude said: "The work?" "Yes, yours." She hesitated. There was something in her husband's personality that sometimes lay upon her like an embargo. She was conscious of this embargo now. But her nervous irritation made her determined to defy it. "Claudie," she went on, "you don't know, you can't know, how much I care for your work. It's part of you. It is you.
"Claudie, dear," said she, touching her finger to her ruby tongue and testing the unresponsive curling irons, "you do me an injustice. Mme. Toinette has not seen a cent of mine since the day you paid your tailor ten dollars on account." Turpin's suspicions were allayed for the time. But one day soon there came an anonymous letter to him that read: "Watch your wife.
"I believe they generally summon authors and composers after the penultimate act over here." "You'll take the call, of course, Claudie?" There was a silence. Then he said: "Yes, I shall take it." His voice was hard. Charmian scarcely recognized it. "Then you'll have to go behind the scenes." "Yes." "Will you " "I'll wait till the curtain goes up, and then slip out." Again there was a silence.
I only saw him for a moment coming out after I had congratulated Miss Mardon. There were so many people. There was no time to hear all he thought. But there could not be two opinions. Claudie, do you feel quite finished?" "No," said Claude, in a strong voice, which broke in almost strangely upon her lively chattering.
"In Kensington Square, I suppose." "I don't feel as if we should ever be able to settle down there again. That little house saw our little beginnings, when we didn't know what we really meant to do." "Djenan-el-Maqui then?" "Ah!" she said, with a changed voice. "Djenan-el-Maqui! What I have felt there! More than I ever can tell you, Claudie."
There was an odd remote expression in his eyes, and his whole face looked excited. "Do do forgive me, Claudie! Those dreadful spoons!" She picked them up. "Of course. What are all these books doing here?" "I brought them. I thought after tea we might talk over words. You remember?" "Oh, yes. Well but I've begun on something." "Were you playing it just now?" "Some of it." "What is it?"
His voice was the voice of a man startled and angry. "Who's there?" he repeated loudly. She heard him get up and come toward the screen. "Claudie, do forgive me! I slipped in. I thought I would make tea for you. It's all ready. But I didn't mean to interrupt you. I was waiting till you had finished. I'm so sorry." "You, Charmian!"
"Why, here's a letter for you, Claudie!" she said, giving it to him. "Is there? Another autograph hunter, I suppose." Without glancing at the writing he tore the envelope, took out a letter, and began to read it. "It's from Mrs. Shiffney!" he said. "She arrived to-day on the same ship as Gillier." "I knew she would come!" cried Charmian.
"And," she continued, "I feel this is the beginning of great things for you. I feel as if, without meaning to, I'd taken you away from your path, as if now I understood better. But I don't think it was quite my fault if I didn't understand. Claudie, do you know you're terribly reserved?" "Am I?" he said. He shifted in his chair, took the cigar out of his mouth, and put it back again.
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