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Updated: June 11, 2025
And so saying, she left the apartment, and ran upstairs. Julian Peveril, meanwhile, paced the apartment in great agitation, waiting the success of Deborah's intercession; and she remained long enough absent to give us time to explain, in a short retrospect, the circumstances which had led to his present situation.
Denner's thoughts apparently dwelt upon it, for twice again, in intervals of those waking dreams, or snatches of sleep, he said, quite to himself, "It is decided; yet it would seem marked to pass over Miss Ruth." And again he murmured, "I should not wish to slight Miss Deborah's sister." Later in the afternoon he wakened, with a bright, clear look in his face.
Thayer, and I pity Barney because he's got you for a mother," Charlotte said, in undaunted response to Deborah's look. "Well, you'll never have to pity yourself on that account," retorted Deborah, without turning her head. The door opened softly, and a girl of about Charlotte's age slipped in. Nobody except Mrs. Barnard, who said, absently, "How do you do, Rose?" seemed to notice her.
I'm not used to it, Mrs. Scoville. I'm a peaceable woman and I'm not used to it." "Miss Weeks " Ah, the oil of that golden speech on troubled waters! What was its charm? What message did it carry from Deborah's warm, true heart that its influence should be so miraculous? "Miss Weeks, you have forgotten my interest in Oliver Ostrander. He was my daughter's lover.
She studied the patient's face intently for some time, and felt his feet; then she took the fan from Deborah's hand. "You go and lie down, Miss Pennycuick. Mrs Dobson will come and sit with me for a while." "No, no," said Deb. "He wants me to be here. I cannot leave him." After a few more minutes of silence, the nurse said again: "You had better go, Miss Pennycuick."
And Roger ran down to the telephone. He was thoroughly frightened. "All right, Mr. Gale," came Baird's gruff bass, steady and slow, "I think I know what the trouble is and I wouldn't worry if I were you. I'll be there in about ten minutes." And it was hardly more than that when he came into Deborah's room. A moment he looked down at her. "Again?" he said.
Gradually it oozed out, as, somehow or other, news, like water, will find a vent, however small the cranny, by slow degrees it came to be understood that Mrs. Deborah's visiter was a certain Mr. Adolphus Lynfield, clerk to an attorney of no great note in the good town of Belford Regis, and nearly related, as he affirmed, to the Thornby family.
He awakened with a start. The telephone bell was ringing. "Nice time to be calling folks out of bed," he grumbled, as he went into the hall. The next moment he heard Deborah's voice. It was clear and sharp with a note of alarm. "Father it's I! You must come to Edith's apartment at once! Bruce is hurt badly! Come at once!" When Roger reached the apartment, it was Deborah who opened the door.
Deborah's wide sensitive lips began to quiver suddenly: "We will talk of it now, or never at all! I want it settled done with! I've had enough it's killing me!" "No," was Allan's firm reply, "in a few days things will change. Edith's child will be out of danger, your other troubles will clear away!" "But what of next winter, and the next? What of Edith's children?
"I will cry no more in the nights," she said. "Why should I make such a figure of myself, with nobody to care for it? And here is my hair full of kinkles and neglect! I declare, if he ever came back, he would say, 'What a fright you are become, my Mary! Where is that stuff of Aunt Deborah's, I wonder, that makes her hair like satin? It is high time to leave off being such a dreadful dowdy.
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