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Updated: June 24, 2025
He walked on alone, chewing the cud of a delightful experience; trying, not unsuccessfully, to recall some of Mr. Desmond's anecdotes. How proud Caesar was of his father! And the father, obviously, was just as proud of his son. What a pair! And if only Caesar were his friend! By Jove! It was rather a rum go, but John was as mad keen to call Caesar friend as poor Fluff to call John friend.
Madame the aunt occupies the ancient apartment of Mademoiselle Desmond." "An instant," said Lady St. Craye; "let me reflect." The concierge ostentatiously went back to her flowers. "You have not given them Miss Desmond's address?" "Madame forgets," said the concierge, wounded virtue bristling in her voice, "that I was, for the moment, devoted to the interest of Monsieur. No. I am a loyal soul.
Merriman, and the harrowing wretchedness which must have been the lot of the ladies while they were in Diggle's power. The man had brought misery into so many lives that it would be a good deed if, in the fortune of war, Desmond's sword could rid the world of him. And Diggle, on his side, was nerved by the power of hate.
It was one of those inevitable moments when the dual forces within pulled two ways; when he felt envious exceedingly of Lance Desmond's sane and single-minded attitude towards men and things. One couldn't picture Lance a prey to the ignominious sensation that half of him wanted to go one way and half of him another way.
"Arrah, but it won't do to turn back," cried Desmond; "those geese now will be after roasting us instead of our roasting them, not to speak of the laugh that there'd be on board when we got back without a feather to show, except the white feather which they'd be after talking about." Thus incited by Desmond's wit, the boatswain determined to attempt landing.
Lenox himself had suffered more from loss of blood than from the flesh wound in his shoulder, which was not a serious affair; and to Desmond's broken wrist had been added a disfiguring slash across his cheek. No doubt orders and commendation awaited them: but their elation at the prospect was hushed by the very present shadow of death.
Such a perambulator Marie had never hoped for, nor dreamed of; it boasted every luxury of contrivance, from the umbrella basket, slung to the handles, to its C-springs and its big, smooth-rolling tyres. In colour it was French-grey, extremely dainty; and it came with Desmond's love to his godson and a tactfully expressed hope that his gift had not been forestalled.
But he did object to drudging for a hard and inconsiderate taskmaster such as his brother was, and the work he was compelled to do became loathsome to him, and bred a spirit of discontent and rebellion. The further news of Clive's exploits in India, coming at long intervals, set wild notions beating in Desmond's head, and made him long passionately for a change.
Upon the Saturday of the semi-final house match, in which the Manor had won a great victory by an innings and twenty-three runs, John went to Desmond's room after prayers. He noticed at once that his friend was unusually excited. John, however, attributed this to Caesar's big score. Success always inflamed Caesar, just as it seemed to tranquillize John.
The experiences of the past year had quickened Desmond's wits; with reason he had become more suspicious than of yore, and the necessity to be constantly on his guard had made him alert, alive to the least suggestion. Why had the speaker been hushed and by Fuzl Khan? He remembered the ugly rumors the veiled hints he had heard about the man in Gheria.
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