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Updated: May 20, 2025
"I hope so," she returned, with a momentary side-long look at Cobbens. The lawyer's eyes were upon her, and as Leigh caught their hungry glimmer, he remembered with a sharp contraction of the heart that he was a widower, and that sometimes the most hideous men possess a compelling fascination for women of great beauty. "Oh, astrology is out of date," Cobbens broke in, with an easy chuckle.
Doubtless Cobbens had killed himself politically, but he had won a certain kind of victory. Emmet was already beaten when he failed to grasp the opportunity the President's visit presented and allowed the committee to thrust him aside. No amount of subsequent championing could restore him to a position of dignity.
There was not one word of reply to the ill-starred Cobbens, not one syllable in appreciation of the efforts of the committee. He had taken his manuscript from his pocket and laid it on the table before the full meaning of this omission dawned upon the audience, and then they broke loose with an animus which made their previous demonstrations seem comparatively mild.
Cobbens entered the door, throwing back his great-coat and tugging at his gloves, to meet Emmet's slow turn of the head and forbidding stare. It was the look of one who feels himself intruded upon and waits in no very amiable mood for an apology. The rest of the party followed, six in all, and Emmet recognised Mrs. Parr, Felicity's neighbour and friend, among them. The worst had come to pass.
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