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Updated: June 24, 2025
"I'm going to be a regular mean one worse'n Budd Jackson!" he continued to Clytie. He was glad to see that this brought her to her senses. "Will you stay if I give you an orange?" "No, sir; you'll never set eyes on me again!" "Oh, now! two oranges?" "I can't I got to go!" in a voice tense with effort. "All right! Then I'll give them to Allan."
Clytie didn't; he had seen her pick it up when she dusted the sitting-room; there was sacrilege in her very grasp of it; and his grandfather seemed hardly to know of its existence. The little girl who had chosen the good name of Lillian May might have been excused; but not these others. If his grandfather was without understanding in such a matter, in what, then, could he be trusted?
Whyland was rather languid, rather elegant, rather punctilious, rather evangelical, and Abner Joyce, before he realized what was happening to him, was launched upon a conversation with a woman who, as Clytie Summers intimated at the first opportunity, was really high in good society. "One of the swells, I suppose you mean," said Abner. "I mean nothing of the kind.
Black, piercing eyes, not large, a low forehead, as low as that of Clytie in the Townley bust, black hair, twisted in heavy braids, a face that one could not help looking at for its beauty, yet that one wanted to look away from for something in its expression, and could not for those diamond eyes. They were fixed on the lady-teacher now.
At both front and flank of the house a score of curtained windows permitted the escape of hints of hospitable intentions; and in point of fact Mr. and Mrs. Palmer Pence were giving a dinner for Mr. and Mrs. Adrian Bond. Adrian and Clytie were but lately back from their wedding-trip.
"We've had Clytie look after both houses sometimes we've rented mine and almost every summer we've come here." "You know I didn't dream I was rich until I got here. The lawyer says they've advertised, but I've been away from everything most of the time not looking out for advertisements.
Morpher starts away in search of her daughter. The dining-room door scarcely closes before the bedroom door opens, and Clytie crosses the parlor softly with something in her hands. "You are going now?" she says hurriedly. "Yes." "Will you take this?" putting a sealed package into his hand, "and keep it without opening it until" "Until when, Clytie?" "Until you are married." Mr. Gray laughs.
Left alone, the little boy began strangely to remember certain phrases from a tract that Clytie had tried to teach him "the moment that will close thy life on earth and begin thy song in heaven or thy wail in hell" "impossible to go from the haunts of sin and vice to the presence of the Lamb" "the torments of an eternal hell are awaiting thee"
Then comes the Harem, the shelf or the bookcase of Delilahs, that you have paid wicked prices for, that you love without pretending to be reasonable about it, and would bag in case of fire before all the rest, just as Mr. Townley took the Clytie to his carriage when the anti-Catholic mob threatened his house in 1780.
"We've done it once before," said Bond. "Don't be anxious about us!" added Clytie. Medora Giles took Abner in her own special care. She knew pretty nearly what he thought of her, and she was inclined to amuse herself though at the same time making no considerable concession by placing herself before him in a more favourable light.
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