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Updated: May 12, 2025
When the time came for us to be married, our guardian angels would, no doubt, take care to provide us with the wherewithal! "Sufficient for the day" was "the evil thereof." Till then, I was quite satisfied to let the matter rest; living, for the present, in the fairy land of my imagination where such a thing as filthy lucre was undreamt of. Mrs Clyde's inquiry, therefore, took me all aback.
"Blessed if I know what's going on." "Well, we're up against it." "How?" "That newspaper story started it." Emerson's teeth snapped angrily, and Clyde's colorless eyes shifted. "Fraser let his tongue wag, and immediately the banks closed up on me.
The curious look which Boyd had noted once before came into Clyde's eyes, and this time, to judge by the young fellow's manner, he might have translated it into words but for the entrance at that moment of Cherry herself, accompanied by "Fingerless" Fraser. "What luck in Vancouver?" she inquired, "None whatever. The banks won't listen to me and I can't interest any private parties."
Vida beams on him brighter than ever and tells him to be sure and have a good time, which I'd bet money he'd be sure to. It was a very pretty scene when they said good night. Vida pretended that Clyde's voice was falling off from smoking too many cigarettes at this club. "I wouldn't mind you're going there, but I just know you spend most of the time in the club's horrid old smoking room!"
In his outer pocket, he carried a little plush card-case, stuffed with little printed visiting cards, on whose immaculate surface, the name Mr. Sylvester Davenport Clyde lay in conscious dignity and beauty. Away down in the left hand corner, like a parenthetical guarantee of Mr. Clyde's imposing social standing, was neatly inscribed Portland Place, London, England. Mr.
"This is about the tea hour," he said. "I'm not particularly long on tea, but I must pay my respects to Miss Clyde and her mother." Tea was in order when the boys were ushered into Mrs. Clyde's comfortable sitting-room. Blue Bonnet was helping herself to a second cup. "Just in time," she said gaily, bestowing a handshake on Knight, and nodding at Alec. Alec felt the omission.
I was fathoming the depths of her soul- lighted, lustrous grey eyes; and, contiguity is sometimes apt in such circumstances, I am told, to hurry one into the rashness of desperation, bringing matters to a crisis. However, Mrs Clyde's entrance stopped all this.
I had a thought that by-and-by I'd go to the Isthmus, and charter some kind of sloop, and dig out Clyde's canvas bags, and so go back to Greenough sticky with glory. Whether it was laziness or ambition kept me so long at Portate I couldn't say. It was a pleasant life. It's a country where you don't notice time.
The woods were dark above the shore, and half a mile out was the black cruiser, with a pennon of smoke against the sky, and the black water between. I went into Clyde's cabin and found him talking to himself. "We'll be scuttling her, Tom," he says. With that he gave a jerk at the foot of his bunk, and the footboard came off, and there underneath were four brown canvas bags tied up with rope.
He turned to find a woman of mannered assurance holding out her hand correctly to him, and under the panama that topped the pleasant effect of her white polo-coat he looked into the eyes of that Tina Glover, who once had caught his rough hand in her little ones and said timidly: "You'll always be my friend, my best, just as you are Clyde's, won't you?
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