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Updated: May 10, 2025
"Some day," I said to myself, letting the tears dry on my cheeks as I listened to a spirit of prophecy, "some day there'll be a battle for life or death between our characters, Di's and mine, and I'll save myself up to win then." It seemed weak, as if I were a whipped child, to creep off to bed, yet I couldn't force myself to read, or do anything to turn my thoughts from the great injustice.
"Euphemie Knowlton?" said Mrs. Salter. "Yes, I used to wonder if we shouldn't get our minister's wife from Elmfield. It looked likely at one time." "Those two wouldn't ha' pulled well together, ne ver," said another. "I should like to know how he and Di's goin' to pull together?" said Mrs. Flandin acidly. "He goin' one way, and she another." "Do you think so, Mrs.
It seemed to me that there must be an evil influence hanging about those clothes of his; and I was still thinking this when Major Vandyke, Father, Diana, and Kitty and I were bunched together, a rather silent party, in Di's big, roomy town car, spinning from Park Lane to the Russian Embassy with Kitchener's "night lights" fanning long white arms across the sky of unnaturally darkened London.
As he kept picking at his dress and pointing to it, I finally prompted: "Did Tolly pin a paper to Di's dress?" "'m h' m." "Bravo, Lucien!" applauded Rob. "They say you can induce a witness to admit anything." "What did Di do with the paper?" I continued. The word he wanted evidently being beyond his vocabulary and speech, he made a rotary motion with his fist.
Di's peculiarities were out in full force, and she looked as if she would go off like a torpedo, at a touch; but through all her moods there was a half-triumphant, half-remorseful expression in the glance she fixed on John. And Laura, once so silent, now sang like a blackbird, as she flitted to and fro; but her fitful song was always, "Philip, my king."
Dalziel had joined two committees got up by stranded Americans at the Savoy: one to supply money for moneyless millionaires, and the other to find clothes for clotheless millionairesses. Whenever one of Diana's workers collapsed with fatigue, she was given tea or something to eat, and allowed an interval's repose in Di's boudoir, which had become the temporary consulting-room of Madame Mesmerre.
Having received my promised explanations, he was more genial on paper than he often took the trouble to be for "only Peggy." He wrote from Di's new house in Park Lane, a letter eminently fitted to be read aloud, and to impress with his graciousness the middle classes personified by estimable if vulgar females labelled Splatchley.
Henceforth I take it for my guide and gospel, and, looking back upon the selfish and neglectful past, can only say, Heaven bless your dear heart, Nan!" Laura echoed Di's last words; for, with eyes as full of tenderness, she looked down upon the sister she had lately learned to know, saying, warmly,
"Why, it's chiefly on Di's account that I'm talking," said Dwight. "How would it hurt Di?" "To have a thing like that in the family? Well, can't you see how it'd hurt her?" "Would it, Ina? Would it hurt Di?" "Why, it would shame her embarrass her make people wonder what kind of stock she came from oh," Ina sobbed, "my pure little girl!" "Hurt her prospects, of course," said Dwight.
To him already the sea meant everything: as a child of three, on his voyage home in the Mogul East Indiaman, he had caught the infection of it; on it, as offering the only career fit for a grown man, his young thoughts brooded, and these annoyances were to him but as chimney-pots and pantiles falling about the heads of folks ashore. But he agreed that Di's conduct needed explaining.
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