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Updated: June 28, 2025
"I love you, Abbot John, with all the wickedness that is in me, but truly you have grown dull lately." No one was better qualified to pass judgment on Sir John than Mrs. Dearmer. To her he was dull, perhaps the worst crime a man can be guilty of in the eyes of such a woman, yet the accusation did not trouble him now as much as it would have done at another time.
We said that, highly as we thought of Dearmer, we had not wantonly tried to defraud the Company in order to get a sight of the place; and that, so far from owing him three shillings apiece, we were prepared to take a sovereign to say nothing more about it.... And still the wagonette didn't come. "Is there a post-office here?" I asked the man. "Or a horse?"
Whereas the men, chivalrous in spite of themselves, perhaps, showed her a certain amount of deference, the women seemed to resent her. It was so soon apparent that she had nothing in common with them that they appeared to combine to shock her. Mistress Dearmer led the laughter at what she termed Barbara's country manners and prudery.
Had I anything to do with him I should slit that wagging tongue of his." "He talks too freely to be dangerous," said Sir John. "His news is doubtless true, and we which side do we favour?" Mrs. Dearmer propounded a question. "Does it not depend upon which is the good?
There were moments when he could not bear to be shut in a room, when the confinement between four walls seemed to stifle him, and like a half suffocated man he would stagger on to the terrace and gasp for breath. He promised Mrs. Dearmer that next week he would go with her to town, and all that day he tried to prove that he was not dull.
"At least I know that any woman would be a fool to attempt such an unprofitable task," she answered. "If I thought you were really speaking the truth, I should hate you. You would not be worthy the name of a man, and even a Mrs. Dearmer, in her more reasonable moments, would despise you." Fellowes looked at her for a moment.
'Stationmaster, Brookfield. Send wagonette and trunk to wait for us at Dearmer Station." "Love to mother and the children," added John. Our train stopped again. I summoned a porter and gave him the telegram. "It's so absurdly simple," I repeated, as the train went on. "Just a little presence of mind; that's all."
In his most admirably written book "Highways and Byways in Normandy," Mr Dearmer gives an interesting sketch of this remarkable man whose success brought him jealous enemies. They succeeded in bringing charges against him for which he was exiled, and at another time he was imprisoned in the castle at Caen until, with great difficulty, he had proved the baseness of the attacks upon his character.
For some purpose of your own you seem anxious to accuse me of being a rebel, and drag me into this ribald crew to have my ears assailed with all manner of indecencies, and to hear my own honour called in question." "You're a fool, girl." "Wise enough to determine that either Mrs. Dearmer and her companions must leave Aylingford, or I shall."
"The Abbot is wanting to make us all do penance," laughed Fellowes, who some time since had parted with sobriety. "I'll read him these verses to pacify him; they would make an angry devil collapse into a chuckle. Mrs. Dearmer inspired them, so you may guess how wicked they are."
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