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Updated: May 21, 2025
But I was nearly tempted to go up in a balloon two years ago." Cynthia stole a glance at Mrs. Devar's rotund figure, and laughed. She could not help it, though she flushed furiously at what she deemed an involuntary rudeness on her part. "Oh, it sounds funny, I have no doubt," said the other, placidly good-tempered, "but I really meant it at the moment.
It couldn't be helped that is, the accident couldn't but I ought not to have been on the river at such a late hour. Do forgive me, dear Mrs. Devar!" By this time the girl's left arm was around her friend's portly form; in her intense eagerness to assuage Mrs. Devar's agitation she began to stroke her hair with the disengaged hand.
Devar's jarred nerves, and the appearance of the Mercury was even more reassuring. "Ah, well," she said, "we are not traveling into the wilds. If desirable, we can always return to town by train. By the way, chauffeur, what is your name?" For an instant Medenham hesitated.
Then he took the plunge, strong in the belief that a half-forgotten transaction between himself and "Jimmy" Devar would prevent that impecunious warrior from discussing him freely in the family circle. "George Augustus Fitzroy," he said. Mrs. Devar's brows knitted; she was regaining her self-possession, and a sarcastic smile now chased away a perplexing thought.
Devar's prominent eyes, he gave a quick turn to a dangerous topic, since it was in Calcutta that the gallant ex-captain of Horton's Horse had "borrowed" fifty pounds from him. Naturally, the lady omitted the telltale prefix to her son's rank, but it was unquestionably true that the British army had dispensed with his services.
"Then," said Cynthia, with what she felt to be a thoroughly self-possessed air, "please ask my chauffeur if he would like another cup of tea, and tell him to house the car and have our boxes sent in, as we shall stay here till half-past eight to-morrow morning." Mrs. Devar's letter to Peter Vanrenen forthwith entered the category of things that must be done at the earliest opportunity.
He laughed as he produced some lobster in aspic and a chicken. "It is jolly useful to have as a friend a butler in a big house," he said. "I didn't know what Tomkinson had given me, but these confections look all right." Mrs. Devar's glance dwelt on the crest the instant she took a plate. She smiled in her superior way.
They come first, all the time. If they don't suit our convenience, we must simply adjust ourselves to the new conditions." "You alarm me, Steingall," cried Devar. "Have we been drawn into an international squabble? Don't tell me that Devar's canned salmon is really a deadly sort of bomb." "I've heard more improbable things. But you would not be your father's son, Mr.
But its very simplicity challenges examination, and an inquisitive clodhopper can effect more damage in a minute than I can repair in an hour." His gruff tone was music in Mrs. Devar's ears. She actually sighed her relief, but explained the lapse instantly. "I do hope there is something nice to eat," she said. "This wonderful air makes one dreadfully hungry.
He is devoted to his daughter, and he might look on my harmless but unavoidable guile with a prejudiced eye. In any event, I should be compelled to go slow in analyzing Mrs. Devar's motives, and this pertinacious Marigny seems to have been fairly intimate with him in Paris. Yes, on the whole, it is just as well that I missed him.
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