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Updated: June 26, 2025
Miriam drifted back to her place in the bay-window, where, while apparently watching the traffic in the street below, she kept an eye on Evie's manœuvres. "What on earth can you two have to talk about?" Evie demanded, while she seemed intent on examining a cabinet of old porcelain. "If you're very good, dear," Miriam replied, trying to take an amused, offhand tone, "I'll tell you.
You have got your way and seen her, so just give her a kiss, and go quietly away." Tears of disappointment rushed to Rhoda's eyes, and as she stooped to give that farewell kiss the salt drops fell upon Evie's cheeks, and roused her momentarily from her lethargy. "Poor Rhoda!" she sighed softly.
"You're blaming me, I think, because I don't take Evie's defection more to heart. Isn't that so?" "I'm not blaming you. I may be a little surprised at it." "You wouldn't be surprised at it, if you knew all I've been through. It's difficult to explain to you " "There's no reason why you should try." "But I want to try. I want you to know.
Evie's absence was her opportunity, and she must act now or never; so, seating herself firmly on her toboggan, she called out the last word of warning; "I'm coming, I tell you! Stand back!" "You will break your neck! You will kill yourself, if you are so mad!" "Oh, bother my neck! I'll risk it!
Evie's fox terrier, who had passed for white, was only a dirty grey dog now, so intense was the purity that surrounded him. He was discredited, but the blackbirds that he was chasing glowed with Arabian darkness, for all the conventional colouring of life had been altered. Inside, the clock struck ten with a rich and confident note.
A real man, who cared for adventure and beauty, who desired to live decently and pay his way, who could have travelled more gloriously through life than the Juggernaut car that was crushing him. Memories of Evie's wedding had warped her, the starched servants, the yards of uneaten food, the rustle of overdressed women, motor-cars oozing grease on the gravel, rubbish on a pretentious band.
Tell me. Tell me right here and now." The man sprang from his seat. He moved away to the window. "You're talking foolish," he flung over his shoulder. "It's not the position. My brother's deserts aren't in question. It's Evie's act. My wife's act. You're a woman and defend her. How could you be expected to see a man's point of view?" "There can be no man's point of view in it," Nan cried warmly.
During the ceremonies of their leave-taking he watched Miriam closely, seeking for some impossible proof that she either loved Ford or did not love him, and getting nothing but a renewed and maddening conviction of her grace and quiet charm. "What about Evie's happiness?" Miriam raised her eyebrows inquiringly at the question before stooping to put out the spirit-lamp.
No one has such influence over Evie as Miriam, and I know she's very keen on seeing you and her you and Evie, I mean hit it off. I don't mind telling you that, as a matter of fact, it's been Miriam's anxiety on Evie's account that has mixed me up in your case at all. I don't say that I haven't got interested in you for your own sake; but it was she who stirred me up in the first place.
In spite of his firmness, Harold had suffered more than she, more than her mother ay, perhaps, more than Evie herself! Despite the painful incidents of Evie's convalescence, Christmas was a happy season at Erley Chase, for it had always been a tradition of the household to make much of this festival, and Mrs Chester could not bring herself to change her habits as the years advanced.
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