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Updated: June 27, 2025
Dyott meanwhile, as a contribution to so much amenity, mentioned to Maud that her fellow guest wished to scold her for the books she read a statement met by this friend with the remark that he must first be sure about them. But as soon as he had picked up the new, the blue volume he broke out into a frank "Dear, dear!" "Have you read that too?" Mrs. Dyott inquired.
And what is the honest lady doing on that side of the town?" Mrs. Dyott was more pointed. "She doesn't so much as FORM a relation." But Maud bore up. "Doesn't it depend again on what you call a relation?" "Oh," said Mrs. Dyott, "if a gentleman picks up her pocket- handkerchief " "Ah even that's one," their friend laughed, "if she has thrown it to him. We can only deal with one that is one."
But she was not so alarmed as she would have been had she been brought up a fine lady. She had had highwaymen pointed out to her in Drury Lane and Dyott Street and knew that the majority were boasting, bragging fellows and cowards at heart. But there were others of a different quality who did their robberies with quite a gentlemanly air. They took the way through Whitton Park.
"That you shouldn't have?" "That I shouldn't have." "A passion?" "A passion." "Shared?" "Ah thank goodness, no!" Mrs. Dyott continued to gaze. "The object's unaware ?" "Utterly." Mrs. Dyott turned it over. "Are you sure?" "Sure." "That's what you call your decency? But isn't it," Mrs. Dyott asked, "rather his?" "Dear no. It's only his good fortune." Mrs. Dyott laughed.
"Do you care very much?" Mrs. Dyott asked. Her friend now hesitated. "It depends on what you call 'much. If you mean should I like to see him then certainly." "Well, my dear, I think he understands you're here." "So that as he evidently isn't coming," Maud laughed, "it's particularly flattering!
'The reading-room? 'Of the British Museum. I go there every day. 'You do? I've only been there once. I'm afraid I found it rather a depressing place. It it seemed to sap one's vitality. 'It does. That's why I go there. The lower one's vitality, the more sensitive one is to great art. I live near the Museum. I have rooms in Dyott Street. 'And you go round to the reading-room to read Milton?
Dyott parenthesised to Maud, "seen it come so often I; and he has always waited for it and met it." "Met it, dear lady, simply enough! It's the old story, Mrs. Blessingbourne. The relation's innocent that the heroine gets out of. The book's innocent that's the story of her getting out. But what the devil in the name of innocence was she doing IN?" Mrs. Dyott promptly echoed the question.
"Know what?" "Why anything." But the door opened too soon for Mrs. Dyott, who could only murmur quickly "Take care!" It was in fact Mrs. Blessingbourne, who had under her arm the book she had gone up for a pair of covers showing this time a pretty, a candid blue.
"The reading-room?" "Of the British Museum. I go there every day." "You do? I've only been there once. I'm afraid I found it rather a depressing place. It it seemed to sap one's vitality." "It does. That's why I go there. The lower one's vitality, the more sensitive one is to great art. I live near the museum. I have rooms in Dyott Street." "And you go round to the reading-room to read Milton?"
"Oh all sorts of things, I should say! And many more, added to those, to make it one for the person you mention." "Ah that I don't pretend it either should be or CAN be. I only speak for myself." This was said in a manner that made Mrs. Dyott, with a visible mixture of impressions, suddenly turn away.
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