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Colville turned to see whether River Andrew had noticed, and saw that landsman looking skyward with an eye that seemed to foretell the early demise of a favouring wind. "That's 'The Last Hope," he said, in answer to Dormer Colville's question. "And it will take all Seth Clubbe's seamanship to save the tide.
Barebone walked toward the gate without joining in the talk of his companions. He was thoughtful and uneasy. He had come to say good-bye and nothing else. He was wondering if he had really meant what he had said. "Come," interrupted Colville's smooth voice. "We must get into the saddle and begone.
"What does he want?" And to judge from Mr. Dormer Colville's pace it would appear that he chiefly desired to interrupt their tete-a-tete. When River Andrew stated that there were few at Farlingford who knew more of Frenchman than himself, it is to be presumed that he spoke by the letter, and under the reserve that Captain Clubbe was not at the moment on shore.
The Marquis would have embraced him then and there, had the cool-blooded Englishman shown the smallest desire for that honour. But Dormer Colville's sad and doubting smile held at arms' length one who was always at the mercy of his own eloquence.
For the wine is hidden in the grape, and the grape is ripening." And, as often as not, the chance acquaintance of an inn dejeuner would catch the phrase and repeat it thoughtfully. "Ah! is that so?" he would ask, with a sudden glance at Dormer Colville's companion, who had hitherto passed unobserved as the silent subordinate of a large buyer; learning his trade, no doubt. "The grape is ripening.
He somewhat laboriously hoisted himself up, his head emerging from his tumbled collar like the head of a tortoise aroused from sleep, and gave into Colville's affectionate grasp a limp and nerveless hand. "No one could feel for you more sincerely than I do," Colville assured him, drawing forward a chair, "more than I have done all through these trying months."
For the wine is hidden in the grape, and the grape is ripening." And, as often as not, the chance acquaintance of an inn dejeuner would catch the phrase and repeat it thoughtfully. "Ah! is that so?" he would ask, with a sudden glance at Dormer Colville's companion, who had hitherto passed unobserved as the silent subordinate of a large buyer; learning his trade, no doubt. "The grape is ripening.
Barebone walked toward the gate without joining in the talk of his companions. He was thoughtful and uneasy. He had come to say good-bye and nothing else. He was wondering if he had really meant what he had said. "Come," interrupted Colville's smooth voice. "We must get into the saddle and begone.
For his mother had been a Clubbe, own cousin, and, as gossips whispered, once the sweetheart of Captain Clubbe himself and daughter of Seth Clubbe of Maiden's Grave, one of the largest farmers on the Marsh. "It cannot be for no particular purpose that the boy has been created so different from any about him," Captain Clubbe muttered, reflectively, as he thought of Dormer Colville's words.
Graham took Colville's weak left hand in her fresh, strong, right, and then lifted herself a chair to his bedside, and sat down. "How do you do to-day, sir?" she said, with a touch of old-fashioned respectfulness in the last word. "Do you think you are quite strong enough to talk with me?" "I think so," said Colville, with a faint smile. "At least I can listen with fortitude." Mrs.
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