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Updated: June 23, 2025
If he had known where to look he would have sought for Cicely at all risks. He even looked for her nightly at the spot of their first meeting but always in vain. It was as though she had vanished into thin air. By chance he heard of her at last. She had sent some work to Drexley which he had decided to accept. He spoke warmly of it, but when Douglas asked for her address he shook his head.
It was all most delightful delightfully novel to Cicely and her friend, delightful to Drexley, who was amazed to find that the power of enjoyment still remained with him.
I feel as though fortune had taken me by the hand. What does it mean, I wonder?" Drexley laughed heartily. He had grown years younger. Happiness had taken hold of him and he was a changed being. "A man may doubt his own work sometimes," he said; "but when he has struck an imperishable and everlasting note of music, well he hears it as surely as other people hear it.
"You've only eighteen minutes now," he said. "I know you'll keep them waiting." For the first half an hour it was doubtful whether the evening was going to be a success. Drexley was gloomy, and had not altogether lost the air of having been forced to do something which bored him. He was polite, but monosyllabic and gloomy, and his interest in the play was obviously feigned.
The variance from her habitual placidity encouraged him. He scarcely hesitated for a moment. "You'll think I'm insane," he began. "I don't care. There's Drexley, heartbroken, that other poor wretch mad, and others that they have told me of. Do you know that these men are your victims, Emily de Reuss?" "My victims?" "Ay. Now listen. I will absolve you from blame.
That she, whose wardrobe was a miracle, and jewel-case the envy of every woman in London, should have chosen to appear to-night in precisely the same toilette, was at the same time an embarrassment and a warning to him. The image of Drexley rose up, the sound of his despairing warning seemed still in his ears.
"You gave him a knockdown blow, and an unexpected one. "I was sorry," Drexley said, awkwardly. "In the conduct of the magazine I have to sometimes consider other people. I am not wholly my own master." Rice, who knew who the "other people" were, muttered a curse between his teeth. Drexley turned frowning away. "At any rate, if you hear anything of him," he said, "let me know."
Never again would he believe that he understood anything whatsoever about women. He walked up and down for a while restlessly, then put on his hat and walked across to the club. "Let me go, I tell you! By Heaven, there'll be mischief if you don't!" Half a dozen of them were holding Drexley a pitiable sight.
"I will think the matter over and let you know." Drexley watched the struggle. He, too, had been young, and he hated himself. "You had better leave us your address," he said. "We will let you know, then, if we see a chance of using more of your work." Douglas hesitated. "When I have an address," he said, "I will write to you. At present I have not made my arrangements in London."
"I don't understand how I have injured you." "Oh, you have not injured me," Drexley answered bitterly. "You have simply stood between me and salvation." "You must speak more plainly if you want me to understand you," Douglas said. "There was only one thing in the world which could have saved me from this from myself," Drexley continued fiercely. "Call me what hard names you like. I'll accept them.
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