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Updated: May 17, 2025
Tallente, and tell us?" the banker's wife suggested. "I am unfortunately a little short of time for such missionary enterprise," Tallente replied, with unappreciated sarcasm. "Dartrey's volume on 'Socialism in Our Daily Life' will tell you all about it." "Far too dry," she sighed. "I tried to read it but I never got past the first half-dozen pages."
Well, then came Dartrey's visit. He laid his programme before me, offered me a seat and I agreed to lead the Democrats in the House. There I think I have been useful. I knew the game, which Dartrey didn't.
She begged for a week's delay; 'before the parting'; as her dear old silly mother's pathos whimpered it, of the separation for a month! and he smiled and hummed pleasantly at any small petition, thinking her in error to expect Dartrey's return to town before the close of a week; and then wondering at women, mildly denouncing in his heart the mothers who ran risk of disturbing their daughters' bosoms with regard to particular heroes married or not.
No man, perhaps, had a more profound conviction as to the truth and future of the principles of which he had become the spokesman. He realised the irresistible power of the new democracy. He was perfectly well aware that it was within Dartrey's power to rule the country whenever he chose.
Fenellan, with the usual apologetic moderation of a second statement, thought 'there was the look of it. 'Well, we must watch over her. Dartrey! but Dartrey's an honest fellow with women. But men are men. Very few men spare a woman when the mad fit is on her. A little woman-pretty little woman! wife to Jacob Blathenoy! She mustn't at her age have any close choosing under her hand.
It was one of Dartrey's rare moments of genuine enthusiasm. His visitor forgot for a moment the businesslike office with its row of telephones, its shelves of blue books and masses of papers. He seemed to be breathing a new and wonderful atmosphere. "I am your man, Dartrey," he promised simply. "Make what use of me you will." Dartrey smiled, once more the plain, kindly man of affairs.
'I will show you the stick he did it with, Miss Nests'; said Skepsey, regardless of narrative; and darted out of the room to bring in the Demerara supple-jack; holding which, he became inspired to relate something of Captain Dartrey's deeds. They gave no pleasure to his young lady, as he sadly perceived: thus it is with the fair sex ever, so fond of heroes!
It 's milk beside the contempt of Dartrey's shrug. He thinks we're a dead people, if a people; "subsisting on our fat," as Colney says. 'I am not of opinion that we show it, observed Dudley. 'We don't, Victor agreed.
Nor was she acutely impressionable to the features and the voice she loved. 'You know of Skepsey? she said. 'Ah, poor Skepsey! Victor frowned and heaved. 'One of us ought to stand beside him at the funeral. 'Colney or Fenellan? 'I will ask Mr. Durance. 'Do, my darling. 'Victor, you did not tell me of Dartrey's wife. 'There again! They all get released! Yes, Dartrey!
'Most probably because he has not written, papa. He paused after the cool reply. She had no mournful gaze at all; but in the depths of the clear eyes he knew so well, there was a coil of something animate, whatever it might be. And twice she drew a heavy breath. He mentioned it in London. Nataly telegraphed at night for her girl to meet her next day at Dartrey's hotel.
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