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Updated: June 20, 2025
"And I told her also that I had made up my mind not to come back to Burton Crescent." "What! leave the house altogether!" "Well; yes. A fellow must make a change sometimes, you know." "And where are you going, John?" "That I don't know as yet." "Tell me the truth, John; are you going to be married? Are you going to marry that young woman Mr Crosbie's leavings? I demand to have an answer at once.
Now he was before her, walking on the footpath, almost within reach of her whip. He did not recognise her, but as he passed on he did recognise Mr Onesiphorus Dunn, and stopped to speak to him. Or it might have been that Crosbie's friend Fowler Pratt stopped with this special object, for Siph Dunn was an intimate friend of Fowler Pratt's.
Nevertheless, the feeling of triumph was predominant; and now, at this interval of time, he was beginning to remember with pleasure the sensation of his fist as it went into Crosbie's eye. During his first day at the office he heard nothing about the affair, nor did he say a word of it to any one.
I've heard him call her names that would frighten a coal-heaver. I have, indeed. But he'll die soon, and then she'll be comfortable. She has three thousand a year jointure." He'll die soon, and then she'll be comfortable! That was one phase of married life. As Crosbie's mind dwelt upon the words, he remembered Lily's promise made in the fields, that she would do everything for him.
He could not say that he wished Crosbie's villainy to be widely discussed, seeing that Lily's name was so closely connected with it. But yet he could not support the idea that Crosbie should not be punished by the frown of the world at large. It seemed to him that from this time forward any man speaking to Crosbie should be held to have disgraced himself by so doing.
"It was a concerted plan, and I think he was right. I should have brained him in the hall of the club." On the following morning Pratt had called upon him at his inn with Crosbie's apology. "His apology!" said the squire. "I have it in my pocket. Poor reptile; wretched worm of a man! I cannot understand it. On my honour, Bernard, I do not understand it.
This she said, remembering at the moment what had been Crosbie's injunctions to her about John Eames. But John had resolved that he would say those words which he had come to speak, and that, as Lily was there with him, he would avail himself of the chance which fortune had given him. "I don't think I'll go into the squire's garden," he said. "Uncle Christopher is not there.
Fairchild begged that they would at least till the next day. When they were gone, Mr. Fairchild and Henry took a walk towards the village with Mr. Somers, whilst the little girls remained at home with their mother. "Dear Lucy," said Mrs. Fairchild, as soon as she was alone with her little girls, "do you remember what we were speaking about yesterday, before Mr. Crosbie's letter came?"
She had seen him with Mr Crosbie, and it might be possible that they were intimate friends. It might be that Mr Pratt was asking questions in Mr Crosbie's interest. Let that be as it might, she would answer no more questions from him further than ordinary good breeding should require of her.
"Exactly, exactly; we all feel that. But we think that you, if I were to say take too much upon yourself, I should say, perhaps, more than we mean." "Don't say more than you mean, Mr Optimist." Crosbie's eyes, as he spoke, gleamed slightly with his momentary triumph; as did also those of Major Fiasco.
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