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Updated: June 17, 2025
Then in his astonishment John Dempsey altogether forgot himself. "Don't be frightened, Mrs. Delane! Why, you've had a faint. But never mind. Cheer up! I'll get you home safe." And Rachel, reviving, opened her heavy eyes to see stooping over her the face of the lad in the hooded cart whom she had last seen in the night of that November snowstorm, two years before.
All the credit is due to him, and to him alone, for our admiral never left his ship, which was anchored three miles from the shore, and contented himself with sending the same contingent of men and boats as the other ships. And, writing again after the landing had been effected, Delane says, 'Remember always, that, in the great credit which the success of this landing deserves, Dundas has no share.
There must have been some connection! And yet there had been no sign of any personal knowledge of Roger Delane in Dempsey's talk; and no reference whatever to Dempsey in Delane's. She went down to supper, very flushed and on edge. Little Jenny eyed her surreptitiously. For the first time the child's raw innocence was disturbed or jealous.
He himself walked on, till he found a lane tunnelled through one of the deep woods that on their western side ran down to Great End Farm. In the heart of that wood there was a keeper's hut, disused entirely since the war. Delane had discovered it, and was quite prepared to spend a night there at a pinch. There was a rude fireplace in it, and some old sacks.
And her knowledge told her that she was about to capitulate, that all her pride and resentment had been swept away, that she had gone over to the enemy. Elemental passions were warring against Lora Delane Porter, and she bowed before them. "Mr. Winfield," she said sharply, her voice cutting the silence like a knife, "I beg your pardon. I seem to have made a mistake. Good night."
Delane looked at her with curiosity. High cheek-bones a red spot of colour on them a sharp chin small, emaciated features, and beautiful deep eyes. Phthisical! like himself poor little wretch! He found out that she was a waitress in a cheap eating-house, and had very long hours. "Jolly good pay, though, compared to what it used to be!
"It can't be Bailey back again." "Good morning, Pennicut," spoke the clear voice of Mrs. Lora Delane Porter. "I wish to see Mr. Winfield." "Yes, ma'am. He's upstairs in 'is bath!" "I will wait in the studio." "Good Lord!" cried Kirk, bounding from his seat on the rail. "For Heaven's sake, Steve, go and talk to her while I dress. I'll be down in a minute." "Sure. What's her name?" "Mrs. Porter.
He went early in order to exchange a word or two of congratulation before the rooms should fill, and on arriving he found only the ladies in the drawing-room; the gentlemen were still sitting over their wine. Presently they came in, and, as luck would have it, Delane of the Times came first.
Delane named a little village on the farther edge of the common. "Oh, well, that's straight ahead. I turn off to the right," said the young soldier, "at the cross road." They walked on together, Delane rather unwillingly submitting to the companionship thus sprung upon him.
Arrived at the village, Betts turned into his cottage, with a nod to his companion, and Delane went on his way. The lane on the farther side of the village was dark under branching trees. Delane stumbled along it, coughing at intervals, and gripped by the rising chill of the September evening. A little beyond the trees he caught sight of the farm against the hill.
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