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The stage director, with a nod of the head intended to imply that he must be patient and all would come right in the future, recovered the paper, and scribbled another sentence. Mr Miller perused it. "Because Mae D'Arcy has got her notice?" he queried, amazed. "But the girl can't dance a step."
But when I came to analyse the theories of man's place in nature expressed in the ignorant language of this Romany heathen, they seemed to me only another mode of expressing the mysticism of the religious enthusiast Wilderspin, the more learned and philosophic mysticism of my father, and the views of D'Arcy, the dreamy painter.
The old Countess d'Arcy, Mordaunt's relation, with whom Isabel had been staying, called them back to bless them; for, even through the coldness of old age, she was touched by the singularity of their love and affected by their nobleness of heart.
As soon as I reached London, thinking that Wilderspin was still on the Continent, I went first to D'Arcy's studio, but was there told that D'Arcy was away that he had been in the country for a long time, busy painting, and would not return for some months. I then went to Wilderspin's studio, and found, to my surprise and relief, that he and Cyril had returned from Paris.
"The sea is like glass, and there's no wind, nor chance of any, as far as I can judge." "Because I haven't sailed round the world for the last forty years with my eyes shut, Mr D'Arcy," he replied. "Be sure, when the weather's like this, there's no slight gale coming on; but the commander is a good seaman, and I suppose he'll give the order soon."
D'Arcy, and at once, what was the state in which I was when I was brought to this place, and what had been the course of my life during my stay here. Mr. D'Arcy had told me that, for reasons which he so touchingly alluded to, he had not used me as a model. How, then, had my time been passed? To question poor Mrs. Titwing would only be to frighten her. I would ask Mr. D'Arcy for a full confession.
With the exception of D'Arcy, whose advice as to the disposal of the cross had proclaimed him to be as superstitious as Sinfi herself, not a single friend had I in all London. Cyril Aylwin, whom I had not seen since we parted in Wales, was now on the Continent with Wilderspin. Strange as it may seem, I looked forward with eagerness to the return of this light-hearted jester.
"But poor Terry will go out of his mind if he supposes that I am lost," argued D'Arcy. "We will try to let him know," said Philip. "Besides, at our place, if we go on, they will not know whether we are all lost, or you are saved." This settled the question. "There, lie down at the bottom, and we will cover you up with our jackets," said Philip. "Give way, Harry."
"Who's playing up there?" asked Gabriel. "Nobody. They're all gone." "O no, Aunt Kate," said Mary Jane. "Bartell D'Arcy and Miss O'Callaghan aren't gone yet." "Someone is fooling at the piano anyhow," said Gabriel. Mary Jane glanced at Gabriel and Mr. Browne and said with a shiver: "It makes me feel cold to look at you two gentlemen muffled up like that.
"Now, as it chanced, there being peace at the time between the Sultan and the Christians, I visited Damascus to buy merchandise. Whilst I was there Saladin sent for me and asked if it were true that I belonged to a part of England called Essex. When I answered yes, he asked if I knew Sir Andrew D'Arcy and his daughter.
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