Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: May 6, 2025
The business man had none of Corthell's talent for significant reticence, none of his tact, and older than she, a man-of-the-world, accustomed to deal with situations with unswerving directness, he, unlike Landry Court, was not in the least afraid of her. From the very first she found herself upon the defensive.
"Oh, I didn't mean to blind you," said her husband, as he came forward. "But I thought it wouldn't be appropriate to tell you the good news in the dark." Corthell rose, and for the first time Jadwin caught sight of him. "This is Mr. Corthell, Curtis," Laura said. "You remember him, of course?" "Why, certainly, certainly," declared Jadwin, shaking Corthell's hand. "Glad to see you again.
Tears stood in Corthell's eyes as he answered: "God forgive whoever whatever has brought you to this pass," he said. And, as if it were a realisation of his thought, there suddenly came to the ears of both the roll of wheels upon the asphalt under the carriage porch and the trampling of iron-shod hoofs. "Is that your husband?"
She somehow managed to convey to him in her manner the information that though his offence was forgotten, their old-time relations were not, for one instant, to be resumed. Cressler took occasion to remark to Laura: "I was reading the Paris letter in the 'Inter-Ocean' to-day, and I saw Mr. Corthell's name on the list of American arrivals at the Continental.
But it seemed as if these important things came of themselves, independent of time and place, like birth and death. There was nothing to do but to accept the situation, and it was without surprise that at last, from out the murmur of Corthell's talk, she was suddenly conscious of the words: "So that it is hardly necessary, is it, to tell you once more that I love you?" She drew a long breath.
"Would you like to have a drink of water, too?" She shook her head, and while he disappeared in the direction of the Cresslers' dining-room, she stood alone a moment in the darkened room looking out into the street. She felt that her cheeks were hot. Her hands, hanging at her sides, shut themselves into tight fists. "What, you are all alone?" said Corthell's voice, behind her.
That which had so abruptly presented itself to her mind was the fact that Corthell's match box his name engraved across its front still lay in plain sight upon the table in her sitting-room the peculiar and particular place of her privacy. It was so much her own, this room, that she had given orders that the servants were to ignore it in their day's routine. She looked after its order herself.
And that was the last word upon the subject between the two sisters. But the evening of the same day, between eight and nine o'clock, while Laura was searching the shelves of the library for a book with which to while away the long evening that she knew impended, Corthell's card was brought to her. "I am not at home," she told the servant. "Or wait," she added.
She remembered Corthell's quiet, patient, earnest devotion of those days before her marriage. He rarely spoke to her of his love, but by some ingenious subtlety he had filled her whole life with it. His little attentions, his undemonstrative solicitudes came precisely when and where they were most appropriate. He had never failed her.
You have no idea of it, how I have ordered my whole life according to that idea." "As though you expected me to believe that," she answered. In her other lovers she knew her words would have provoked vehement protestation. But for her it was part of the charm of Corthell's attitude that he never did or said the expected, the ordinary.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking