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Updated: June 9, 2025
What you have possessed me withall, I'll discharge it amply. Ben Jonson's Every Man in his Humour. Mr. Courtland's house was surrounded by a high wall, and stood at the outskirts of the town. A little wooden door buried deep within the wall, seemed the only entrance.
"And the gentleman, you say, was at Mr. Courtland's." "Yes, Sir, that I'm sure of," replied the intelligent Mrs. Holwell; "they said he had come lately from Ingee."
Walter now despairing of hearing more, purchased the whip; and blessing the worldly wisdom of Sir Peter Hales, that had thus thrown him on a clue, which, however faint and distant, he resolved to follow up, he inquired the way to Squire Courtland's, and proceeded thither at once. God's my life, did you ever hear the like, what a strange man is this!
At another time the three young men would have shouted over it. Now they looked at one another in silence. "Sha'n't I go and get a message for you, Court?" asked Tennelly. For Courtland's face was ashen gray, and the memory of it lying in the hospital was too recent for him not to feel anxious about his friend.
Courtland had heard of the offer made to his son by Ramsey Thomas, and that he was not unfavorable to its acceptance. "Of course, you don't really need to do anything of the sort, you know, Paul," he said, affably. "You've got what your mother left you now, and on your twenty-fifth birthday there will be two hundred and fifty thousand coming to you from your Grandfather Courtland's estate.
The room was tense with stillness. Aquilar's voice was not one to pass unnoticed when he spoke in anger, but Courtland did not even lift an eyelid toward him. Perhaps Aquilar's words had given Gila courage, for she suddenly lifted her eyes to Courtland's face again, a flash of vengeance in them: "I suppose you are going to tell Lew all about it?" she flung out, bitterly.
He taught Burns several things about swimming, and played pranks like a school-boy. He basked in the sun and told jokes, laughing at Pat's brilliant wit and Burns's dry humor. At night they took long walks upon the sand and talked of deep things that Pat could scarcely understand. He was satisfied to stride between them, listening to the vigorous ring of Courtland's old natural voice again.
There was something splendid in his bearing that sent a thrill of admiration down Courtland's spine as he watched, his habitual half-cynical smile of amusement still lying unconsciously about his lips, while a new respect for the country student was being born in his heart.
"It's breaking my mother's heart to have me leave the faith!" The slick hay-like hair fell in wisps over his hands, his high, bony shoulders were hunched despairingly over Courtland's study table. He was a great, pitiful object. "Why don't you, then?" said Courtland, getting up and going to the closet for his overcoat. "It's up to you, you know. You can!
He called Courtland a "trifling idiot," and a few other gentle phrases, and demanded reasons for such an unprecedented decision. Courtland's only answer was: "I am afraid it isn't going to fit in with my views of life, Mr. Thomas. I have thought it over carefully and I cannot accept your offer." "Why not? Isn't it enough money?" roared the mad financier. "I'll double your salary!"
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