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Updated: June 25, 2025
There are hosts of sisters, cousins and aunts, all of whom expect to be taken to the latest musical play or for a week-end to Brighton: that's how we victimised bachelors spend our hard-earned leave! But I promised Duveen I would do all in my power for his daughter.
Lister wondered whether he had meant to use him, and was glad he had kept his independence. If he got the post now, he would know he had rather misjudged Duveen, but he doubted. All the same, he liked the man. After supper Kemp and he sat on the veranda and watched the green glow fade from the edge of the plain.
Will you please make a note to send the gown to Miss Duveen at this address." He laid one of his aunt's cards upon the table. "But an important point enclose no receipt; nothing that would afford a clue to the price. Will you remember?" "I shall remember," said the saleswoman, greatly relieved and beginning to smile once more.
Duveen accompanying them to the gate and watching Don as long as he remained in sight. "Did you observe the drawings on the wall?" he asked Paul, as they pursued their way along Babylon Lane. "I did. They were original and seemed to be interesting." "Remarkably so; and they are the work of our wood nymph." "Really! Where can she have acquired her art?" "From her father, I gather.
He had not felt this until he went to Winnipeg. On the whole, he had liked the struggle against physical obstacles. It was his proper job, but the struggle was stern and sometimes exhausting, and his reward was small. Now he wanted something different, and gave himself to vague and brooding discontent. Ruth Duveen had broken his former tranquillity.
And clearly before him so clearly as almost to constitute hallucination -arose a vision of Flamby Duveen as she appeared in the secret photographs. "You have definitely set your hand to the plough?" "Definitely." Jules Thessaly advanced, leaning forward across the table. He stared fixedly at Paul.
Half the crowd cheered in fair appreciation of the way fate was starring the ambitious young outfielder; the other half, dyed-in-the-wool home-team fans, bent forward in a waiting silent gloom of fear. Burt knocked the dirt out of his spikes and faced Duveen. The second ball pitched he met fairly and it rang like a bell. No one in the stands saw where it went.
They entered a small living room, stuffy because of the characteristically closed windows, but marked by a neatness of its appointments for which the gipsy appearance of Mrs. Duveen had not prepared them.
He studied her. She had grace and charm; it was much to enjoy, for one evening, the society of a girl like this. Duveen went off between the acts to meet his friends, but Ruth stopped and talked. Her smile was gracious and Lister let himself go. He told her about adventures on the track and asked about her life in the cities.
"You have committed some indiscretion such as presenting your siren-haired protégée, Flamby Duveen, to your wife." "I have not," said Paul sharply. "I am glad. He who presents one pretty woman to another makes two lifelong enemies." "I did not know that you had met Flamby." "She has been described to me and she sounds dangerous. I distrust curly-haired girls.
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