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Updated: June 26, 2025
I recognize Miss May's docility." "You are quite right," said May, with dignity. "It was I who proposed it. Do you read Ruskin, Mr. Daymond?" "Of course I do. One would be lost without him, here in Venice." "We almost got lost with him the other day," she rejoined.
Perhaps that accounted for something that had perplexed him of late. A Benediction The thing that had perplexed Geoffry Daymond was nothing less inexplicable than the persistency with which the face of Pauline Beverly had come to insinuate itself into his thoughts. When in her society, to be sure, he was not aware of regarding her with an exclusive interest.
Having, then, definitely conceived the idea, which had, indeed, been hovering in his mind for some time, that Geoffry Daymond was seriously interested in May Beverly, the situation had gained a piquancy which Kenwick found extremely seductive.
Geoffry Daymond went down to the door with his mother's old friend, but he had the tact not to offer him a hand across the plank to the gondola; an act of forbearance which was not lost upon the Colonel. "Not a bit like his mother," the Colonel was saying to himself. "Not a bit. Wonder if he takes after his father. The kind of man that would stick in a woman's memory, I should say."
"I will keep Uncle Dan company. We have not finished our coffee yet." As they walked away, Uncle Dan looked after the two comely figures, with a newly acquired intelligence of observation. Presently he coughed discreetly, and asked, with a great effort at being merely conversational: "Did it ever strike you, Polly, that young Daymond was getting er attentive?"
"Why, Nanni," she said; "there is nothing to forgive. You know best." She had not often said those three words in the easy self-confidence of her youth. "You know best," she said. "It is I who should beg pardon for thinking I knew." She held out her hand to him, as naturally as she would have done to Geoffry Daymond, and Nanni, stooping, lifted it to his lips.
An instant later it was past and over, and May and Geoffry were comparing impressions with great earnestness on her part and undisguised relish on his. "How pretty the light must be on the Virgin and the Angel on the other side of the bridge," said Pauline. "Yes," Mrs. Daymond answered; "I was thinking of that."
Daymond instantly perceived that Geof had confessed more than he was himself aware. She did not reply at once; to her, too, appeared the face of Pauline Beverly, as unlike her own, she thought, as well might be, and infinitely more attractive to her for that. Yes, there was only one thing that could possibly make them seem alike to Geof.
He wondered what fine thing it would be vouchsafed him to do, to win the girl he loved. Geoffry Daymond was by nature modest; the accident of worldly prosperity, of personal success, had not changed that; but he was equally by nature determined.
The child did not know that it was the universal custom of his class; that there was nothing else to be done when a gentlewoman extended her hand to a gondolier. She only knew it was the first time in her life that such a thing had happened to her, and she turned away in much perturbation. She found herself face to face with Geoffry Daymond, who was coming along the bank in search of her.
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