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Updated: June 23, 2025
Firmly though his feet were planted upon the ladder, it seemed to him then in that gloomy mood that every step must take him further away from any chance of that wonderful happiness, so intangible, yet so sweet an adjunct to life. For he was following like a doomed creature in the wake of Drexley, and Rice, and those others. Too late had come his warning.
"If he comes," she repeated, with an odd little smile at the corner of her lips. Drexley walked through the crowded streets to his club, where his appearance in such unwonted garb was hailed with a storm of applause and a good deal of chaff. He held his own as usual, lighted his pipe, and played a game of pool. But all the same he was not quite himself.
I always take a fin instead of a savoury, and I shall take the liberty of ordering one for you, Jesson, and a creme de menthe for Miss Strong." "You're very good," Douglas answered. The order was given to the head-waiter himself, who stood by Drexley's chair. Drexley raised his little glass and bowed to the girl. "I drink your health, Miss Strong," he said, gravely, "and yours, Jesson.
Tell me, have you begun the country letters yet for Mr. Anderson?" "I send my first one away on Thursday," Douglas answered. "You will send me a proof?" "If I may, with pleasure." She turned to Drexley. "And you, my friend," she said, "how have things gone with you? The Ibex is as good as ever. I bought this month's at a kiosk in Buda. You must get Mr.
"Hard to convince, as they all are," Rice said, with a wintry smile. "Never mind. I'll do my best to save you. Listen to this. Do you know why Drexley behaved so disgracefully to you about your story?" Douglas looked up eagerly. The thing had always puzzled him. "No. Why?" "Because he had orders from Emily de Reuss to do so. She had given you her address and bidden you go and see her.
I'm one of her literary proteges, you see and there have been others and I am what you see me." Douglas hesitated. "Surely with you," he said, "it isn't too late?" Drexley looked up. There was the dull hopelessness of despair in his bloodshot eyes. Douglas, who had never seen anything like it before, felt an unaccountable sense of depression sweep in upon him.
"Her ladyship will excuse me," she said, "but she is dining at Dowchester House to-night at eight o'clock." Emily rose and held out her hand to Drexley. "Quite right, Marie," she said. "I see that I must hurry. You will remember, my friend." "I will remember," he answered quietly.
So far as regards anything else, I do not think that I am in any sort of danger. I will confess to you that I am ambitious. I have not the slightest intention of falling a victim to Emily de Reuss, or any other woman." Drexley took up his cigar and relit it. "You speak," he said, "exactly as I should have done years ago. Yet you are fortunate so far."
Drexley, a little gaunt and pale, but more carefully dressed than usual in evening clothes, passed their table, looking for a vacant seat. Douglas touched his arm. "Sit here, Drexley," he said. "We're off in a minute, and then you can have the whole table." Drexley thanked him and surrendered his hat and coat to the waiter. Douglas leaned across to Cicely. "Cicely," he said, "let me introduce Mr.
Propose to kill him, if you like, and I am with you at all risks. But don't go near him, don't give him money." Douglas lit a cigarette and turned his back to the window. "Very well," he said. "I will forget him. You had better do the same." Drexley nodded slowly. "For to-night, perhaps," he said. "To-morrow it will begin again. I watch him all my spare time.
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