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Updated: June 27, 2025
A louder throb of the tempest had blurred the sound of the words. "A little wild?" "Dear no timid and tame; unless I've quite lost my sense." "Perhaps you have," Mrs. Dyott placidly suggested "reading so many." Her companion made a motion of feigned despair. "Ah you take away my courage for going to my room, as I was just meaning to, for another." "Another French one?" "I'm afraid."
Dyott continued to study her. "You ARE vexed. You naturally don't like it such destruction." "Destruction?" "Of your illusion." "I HAVE no illusion. If I had moreover it wouldn't be destroyed. I have on the whole, I think, my little decency." Mrs. Dyott stared. "Let us grant it for argument. What, then?" "Well, I've also my little drama." "An attachment ?" "An attachment."
Dyott as if in compassion for sophistry so simple, "adventures are just adventures. That's all you can make of them!" But her friend talked for their companion and as if without hearing. "Doesn't it depend a good deal on what you call drama?" Maud spoke as one who had already thought it out. "Doesn't it depend on what you call romance?" Her listener gave these arguments his very best attention.
Dyott, left alone, moved with an air of selection to the window, and it was as so stationed, gazing out at the wild weather, that the visitor, whose delay to appear spoke of the wiping of boots and the disposal of drenched mackintosh and cap, finally found her. He was tall lean fine, with little in him, on the whole, to confirm the titular in the "Colonel Voyt" by which he was announced.
"Oh you dear souls!" "Besides," his companion pursued, "I wasn't in want of that evidence." "Then what other had you?" "Her state before you came which was what made me ask you how much you had seen her. And her state after it," Mrs. Dyott added. "And her state," she wound up, "while you were here." "But her state while I was here was charming." "Charming. That's just what I say."
Blessingbourne's entrance on the previous Saturday had arrested her answer. Had that lady the idea of anything between them? "No. I'm sure. There's one idea she has got," Mrs. Dyott went on; "but it's quite different and not so very wonderful." "What then is it?" "Well, that she's herself in love." Voyt showed his interest. "You mean she told you?" "I got it out of her." He showed his amusement.
Walford mentions also Rat's Castle, a rendezvous for all the riff-raff of the neighbourhood. Dyott Street was named after an influential parishioner of Charles II.'s time, who had a house here. It was later called George Street, but has reverted to the original name. South of Great Russell Street there were formerly Bannister's Alley and Eagle and Child Yard running northwards.
"You can't spoil my happiness." He held her hand an instant as he took leave. "I wish I could add to it!" When he had quitted them and Mrs. Dyott had candidly asked if her friend had found him rude or crude, Maud replied though not immediately that she had feared showing only too much how charming she found him. But if Mrs. Dyott took this it was to weigh the sense.
When you say we get always the same couple what do you mean but that we get always the same passion? Of course we do!" Voyt pursued. "If what you're looking for is another, that's what you won't anywhere find." Maud for a while said nothing, and Mrs. Dyott seemed to wait. "Well, I suppose I'm looking, more than anything else, for a decent woman."
"Without on the other hand" Voyt seemed to assent "its giving at all a coherent impression of you." "She wants her romance cheap!" said Mrs. Dyott. "Oh no I should be willing to pay for it. I don't see why the romance since you give it that name should be all, as the French inveterately make it, for the women who are bad." "Oh they pay for it!" said Mrs. Dyott. "DO they?" "So at least" Mrs.
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