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Updated: June 1, 2025
"We were speaking of her," said the hostess, with very pronounced mischief at the corner of her lips, and eyes excessively gracious. "You know Miss Tomalin?" Lashmar inquired, rather abruptly, of Lord Dymchurch. "I have met her once," was the colourless reply. Dyce wished to ask where and when, but of course could not. He resented this advantage of Lord Dymchurch.
In desperation, he broke into some wholly foreign subject, and for this morning, all hope of the decisive step had passed. The day brought no other opportunity. Towards midnight, Dymchurch sat at the open window of his chamber, glad to be alone, anxious, self-reproachful. To-morrow he must discharge what had become an obvious duty, however difficult it might be.
"Yes," answered Dyce, "and I think it a mistake from beginning to end." "How so?" Lord Dymchurch was about thirty, slight in build, rather languid in his movements, conventionally dressed but without any gloss or scrupulous finish, and in manners peculiarly gentle.
He threw up his rubber factory appointment, desisted from all further writing, and, with a certain secrecy that seems to have been an inseparable characteristic of all his proceedings, set to work upon the apparatus. He seems to have directed the making of its parts and collected most of it in a room in Shoreditch, but its final putting together was done at Dymchurch, in Kent.
Their dialogue was interrupted by the hostess, who came forward with a gentleman she wished to present to Miss Tomalin. Hearing the name Mr. Langtoft Dymchurch regarded him with curiosity, and, moving aside with Lady Honeybourne as she withdrew, he inquired whether this was the Mr. Langtoft. "It is," the hostess answered. "Do you take an interest in his work? Would you like to know him?"
"You mean to tell her what has happened this morning? I forbid you to do so! I forbid you!" "I didn't mean anything of the kind," replied Lashmar. "To Dymchurch of course I shall speak quite freely: there's no choice. To Miss Bride I shall only say that I want our sham engagement to come to an end, because I am in love with you.
"Shall I confess to you that I almost fancied this might be the explanation of Miss Bride's engagement?" "Miss Bride ? How?" "I only tell you for your amusement. It occurred to me that, having set her heart on a scheme which had reference to Lord Dymchurch, your aunt was perhaps a little uneasy with respect to a much more brilliant and conspicuous man.
By the bye, I'm expecting Sir William before dinner Sir William Amys, you know. He may be here still when you come on Thursday." Why Lady Ogram should be so careful to conceal the fact' that Lord Dymchurch was expected, Dyce found it difficult to understand. But it was clear that Dymchurch had been invited in the hope, perhaps the certainty, that he would propose to May Tomalin.
Didn't Lady Ogram mention it to you?" "Not a word," answered Dyce. "No doubt she had a reason for saying nothing. You, possibly, could suggest it?" His face had changed. There was cold annoyance in his look and in his voice. "It must have been mere accident," said May. "That it certainly wasn't. How long will Dymchurch stay?" "I have no idea, Mr. Lashmar. I must leave you.
Watching Wibley when he came down to Hythe, Quarles found he had a liking for motoring on the Dymchurch Road. He saw him pull up one morning to speak to a man on the roadside. He did the same thing on the following morning, but it was a different man, and Quarles recognized young Squires.
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