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"It seems like a plot to catch her," said Temple. "A friend of yours told me you were straight. And you are. I thought perhaps she flattered you." "Who? No, I'm not to ask questions." "Lady St. Craye." "Do you know," he said, slowly pulling downstream, "there's one thing I didn't tell you. I came away from Paris because I wasn't quite sure that I wasn't in love with her."
Craye for once was at a loss. Her nerve was gone. She dared not tempt the claws again. After the longest pause of all Betty said suddenly: "I think I know why you came to-day." "I came to see you, because you're a friend of Mr. Vernon's." "You came to see me because you wanted to find out exactly how much I'm a friend of Mr. Vernon's. Didn't you?" Candour is the most disconcerting of the virtues.
Her stress on the word and her look thrilled De Craye; for there had been a long conversation between the young lady and the dame. "It was an article that dropped and was not stolen," said he. "Barely sweet enough to keep, then!" "I think I could have felt to it like poor Flitch, the flyman, who was the finder."
Vernon Whitford would be sceptical. Headache or none, Colonel De Craye must be thinking strangely of her; she had not shown him any sign of illness. His laughter and his talk sung about her and dispersed the fiction; he was the very sea-wind for bracing unstrung nerves. Her ideas reverted to Sir Willoughby, and at once they had no more cohesion than the foam on a torrent-water.
But I hope you did not listen to a private conversation. Miss Middleton would not approve of that." "Colonel De Craye, how could I help myself? I heard a lot before I knew what it was. There was poetry!" "Still, Crossjay, if it was important was it?" The boy swelled again, and the colonel asked him, "Does Miss Dale know of your having played listener?" "She!" said Crossjay.
He took a sagacious turn at an early period of the dose. He weighed the smallest question of his daily occasions with a deliberation truly oriental. Had I pushed it, he'd have hired a baby and a couple of mothers to squabble over the undivided morsel." "I shall hope for a day in London with you," said Lady Culmer to Clara. "You did not forget the Queen of Sheba?" said Mrs. Mountstuart to De Craye.
That also had been traced for a route on the map of Colonel De Craye. "We are started in June, I am informed," said Dr. Middleton. June, by miracle, was the month the colonel had fixed upon. "I trust we shall meet, sir," said he. "I would gladly reckon it in my catalogue of pleasures," the Rev. Doctor responded; "for in good sooth it is conjecturable that I shall be left very much alone."
Craye hesitated a moment with her latchkey in her hand. Then she threw open the door of her flat. "Come in, won't you?" she said, and led the way into her fire-warm, flower-scented, lamplit room. Vernon also hesitated a moment. Then he followed. He stood on the hearth-rug with his back to the wood fire. He did not speak.
But before he took the midday train from Markborough to the North, on the following day, Meynell spent half an hour with his Bishop in the episcopal library. It was a strange meeting. When Bishop Craye first caught sight of the entering figure, he hurried forward, and as the door closed upon the footman, he seized Meynell's hand in both his own.
After prayers, on the road to the dormitories, Harrison and Craye, senior house-prefects, zealous in their office, waylaid them with great anger. "What have you been doing to Heffy this time, Beetle? He's been jawing us all the evening." "What has His Serene Transparency been vexin' you for?" said McTurk.
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