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Updated: May 19, 2025
"Well, I don't like the idea of a foreign chap coming down and But, mind you, Duplay's a very superior fellow. He knows the deuce of a lot." "Thinks he does, anyhow," said Harry, smiling again. "Good-night, old fellow," he called after Bob in a very friendly voice as horse and rider disappeared up the road.
"That, sir, has nothing to do with it." Harry Tristram looked up at him. For the first time he broke into a smile as he studied Duplay's face. "I shouldn't in the least wonder," he said almost chaffingly, "if you believed that to be true. Everybody knows that you're after Miss Iver yourself, and yet you say that it has nothing to do with it!
The tidings gained added solemnity from Duplay's delivery of them, even though a larger share of his impressiveness was directed to the influence the event might have on his fortunes than to the event itself. "Then we shall see. He'll assume the title, I suppose. That's no affair of mine. And then he'll go to Fairholme. That is." He turned suddenly, almost threateningly, upon her.
But Duplay's reasons were, in fact, overwhelming. Lady Tristram lived still, and he had the grace to count that as the strongest motive for holding his hand. Harry's campaign was for the moment at a standstill; Duplay had no doubt he would resume it as soon as his mother was buried; on its apparent progress the Major's action would depend.
Even on his own theory of the story, Duplay's assertion hardly entitled him to be amazed. "As regards my part in this matter," he said at last, "I have only this to say. The circumstances of my birth with which I am, as you rightly suppose, quite familiar were such as to render the sort of notion you have got hold of plausible enough.
If you abandon the idea of that marriage, you're safe from me. I have no other friends here; the rest must look after themselves. But you shall not delude my friends with false pretences." "And I shall not spoil your game with Miss Iver?" Duplay's temper quite failed him. He had not meant this to happen; he had pictured himself calm, Harry wild and unrestrained either in fury or in supplication.
Duplay's anger had stirred him to seek a primitive though effective revenge. Harry was hoping to inflict a more subtle punishment. He needed only a bit of luck to help him to it; he knew how to use the chance when it came just as well as he knew who was in the dog-cart, as well as he guessed whence the dog-cart came. The luck did not fail. Duplay's right foot slipped.
This room, which was the bed-chamber, reception-room, and study of the arbitrary Dictator, was a garret in the roof of Duplay's humble dwelling. One small window, opening upon the tiles, looked into the court-yard in which were stored the planks or blocks necessary to the cabinet-maker's trade.
"But though you refuse my offer, I shall consider Lady Tristram. I will not move while she lives, unless you force me to it." "By marrying the heiress you want?" sneered Harry. "By carrying out your swindling plans." Duplay's temper began to fail him. "Listen. As soon as your engagement is announced if it ever is I go to Mr Iver with what I know.
Now see to my valise, and on my return perhaps I'll tell you where I am going, and put your fidelity to the test." "And you will take me with you?" "Why, yes," La Boulaye promised him, "unless you should prefer to remain in Paris." With that he got away and leaving the house, he walked briskly up the street, round the corner, and on until he stood once more before Duplay's.
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