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Updated: May 25, 2025
He wondered whether Ruth had talked to Duveen before she hinted he might get a better post. "Perhaps I ought not to have come up. In fact, I hesitated " Duveen laughed. "So I remarked! You reckoned the Occidental stoop was pretty public and your talking to me might imply that you wanted my support? Well, I'll risk that. It's obvious you're on the short list. Do you want a post?"
Flamby, the human Eve, mercilessly taxed by Flamby the philosopher, pleaded guilty to a charge of personal vanity. Yes, she had dared to think herself pretty until she had seen Yvonne Mario. Flamby, the daughter of Michael Duveen, had defined Yvonne's appearance as "a slap in the face."
Finally, and inevitably, she thought again of Paul Mario, and still thinking of him returned to Dovelands Cottage. Mrs. Duveen had gone into the town, an expedition which would detain her for the greater part of the day, since she walked slowly, and the road was hilly. Therefore Flamby proceeded to set the house in order.
"His honour doesn't tell you, sir," added Mrs. Duveen, "that he brought Michael in on his back with the bullets thick around him." "Oh! oh!" cried Don gaily. "So that's the story, is it! Well, never mind, Mrs. Duveen; it was all in the day's work. What the Sergeant did deserved the V.C., and he'd have had it if I could have got it for him.
I'm told the show is good." Lister made some excuses, but Duveen would not be refused. "When we stopped at your camp you made things smooth for us. You gave Ruth some thrills, showed her the romance of track-grading, and generally helped her to a good time. Anyhow, the thing is fixed. We'll send the car for you." They went off soon afterwards, and Lister mused and smoked.
"I asked for a post," he said. "If I'm engaged, I'll try to make good; but I must make good at the dam or on the ditch. Then I don't want to bother my friends. The company has my engineering record and must judge my usefulness by this. If they're not satisfied, I won't grumble much." "You're an independent fellow, but I think I understand," Duveen rejoined with a twinkle.
He is an omnivorous, but scientific general collector. Mr. H. J. Duveen, the well-known art connoisseur of London and New York, although he did not take to stamp collecting till 1892, has already got together the finest collection, outside the British Museum, in this country.
If I'm fit to enjoy an excursion, I'm fit to work." "You're too scrupulous, young man. Have a good time when it's possible, or you'll be sorry afterwards. I reckon you're justified to take all the company will give." "It was caution, not scruples. Suppose I meet one of the railroad chiefs?" "I'll fix him," Duveen rejoined. "Your bosses won't get after you when you belong to my party.
Although he had not altogether hidden his bandage and his clothes were not the latest fashion, Ruth Duveen was satisfied. Somehow he looked a finer type than the business men in the neighboring stalls. One felt the man's clean virility and got a hint of force. Lister was highly strung.
Flamby Duveen lay flat amid the bluebells, one hand outstretched before her and resting lightly upon a little mound of moss. It was a small brown hand and she held it in such a manner, knuckles upward, and imparted to it so cunning and peculiar a movement that it assumed quite an uncanny resemblance to a tiny and shrinking hare.
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