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She gathered them into her gladness they somehow sympathized, she felt, in her present sweet and poignant joy. Her soul had known best, had been right in its homing since Faircloth was here was here. That sweet, poignant joy flooded her, so that she wordlessly gave thanks and praise. He was in life more, was within sight of her, hearing the same sounds, breathing the same air.
If you suffer me to do so, I will ask Darcy Faircloth to bring his mother here to me, this evening at dusk, when her coming will not challenge impertinent observation so that I may be satisfied no bitterness colours her thought of me and that we part in peace, she and I." Damaris got up from her seat on the arm of the red-covered chair.
"Dear witch," he said, "I have some telegrams I should be glad to send off, and another small matter of business to transact in the town, so here, I will leave you, if you permit, in our friend's safe-keeping" he smiled upon Faircloth. "At the station, at five-thirty, we meet. Au revoir, then."
In the soberness of her middle years, occupied as she was with the rough, exacting business of the inn, and with the management of accumulating landed and other property anxiety born of her son's perilous calling never absent from her thought Lesbia Faircloth inclined to live exclusively in the present. Hence the colours of her solitary passion had somewhat faded, becoming clouded and dim.
Yet what a ten thousand pities; for notwithstanding the plebeian origin on the mother's side, didn't Faircloth these reflections came later really surpass every male Verity present, young Tom included, though she confessed to a very soft spot in her heart for young Tom?
In the buying of this all-too-costly-gift, then, consisted that business transaction he had made the excuse for leaving her alone with Faircloth, upon the quay alongside which lay the Forest Queen. Oh! he surpassed himself! Was too indulgent, too munificent to her! As on a former occasion, she totted up the sum of his good deeds. Hadn't he given up his winter's sport for her sake?
She grew heart-sick for some fresh testimony, some clear immediate assurance that time and absence had not staled or undermined the romance. If only she could speak of it! But that was forbidden by every obligation of filial piety. Never had her relation to her father been more tender, more happy; yet only through sudden pressure of outward circumstance could she speak to him of Faircloth.
And this delusion of permanence, the enclosing soft-clinging darkness served to heighten. The passage of time itself seemed arrested to-morrow becoming an abstraction, remote and improbable, which could, with impunity, be left out of the count. With this fantastic state of things, Faircloth had no quarrel.
Then meanings she detected, behind the apparently light-hearted words, filled her with gratitude. They reminded her gently of duties accepted, promises made. They gathered in Faircloth, too, by implication; thus assuring her of sympathy and approval where she needed them most.
"None that, by birth, Captain Faircloth is somewhat nearly related to your family to your your brother, Sir Charles, in fact?" There, the incubus was off his straining chest at last! He felt easier, capable of manipulating the situation to some extent, smoothing down its rather terrible ascerbities.
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