Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 19, 2025
I believed it until the other day when we talked about Marian Holbury then I knew that you were still in love with me." Farquaharson's face paled and his lips tightened. "I had tried," he said slowly, "to let you think the things which might make you happier but I don't seem to be a good actor." "You were a splendid actor, Stuart, but you had a woman's intuition against you."
"If I thought that there was even a remote danger of this friendship ever becoming more than a friendship, I'd have Conscience send him away. I'd guard her from it as from a contagion." The announcement came fiercely. "Young Farquaharson's blood is blood that runs to license. His ideas are the ideas of a hard-drinking, hard-gaming aristocracy.
The sudden fear attacked him that he was too late. He made a complete and careful circuit of the grounds, noting with the fancied shrewdness of his mood every circumstance upon which a meaning might be placed. The blankness of the first floor was merely indicative but when he noted also the dark sash of Farquaharson's window indicativeness assumed a more sinister emphasis.
The two alternatives were, roughly, those of passion and reason, yet each was led by so many tributary problems that it was not easy to disentangle the threads of their elements. Stuart Farquaharson's inheritance of fighting blood brought a red blindness which at times made the voice of reason seem contemptible and pallid with cowardice.
Lieutenant Hancock told me." Stuart Farquaharson's first impulse upon finding his surprise for the meeting unshared, was an astonishment at Marian herself. Unless some great urgency existed for an immediate return to the States he supposed that she would have avoided sailing with him.
I was bitterly rebellious and heart-broken when you ignored the note in which I asked you, as humbly as I could, to come back, but that is over now " A note which asked him to come back! The letter fell from Farquaharson's fingers. His hands themselves fell limp to the table. He sat stupefied staring and licking his lips.
"She came here, Stuart, to explain things which she thought put you in an unsightly light and to say that whatever blame there was belonged to her." "She did that?" Stuart Farquaharson's face reddened to the temples and his voice became feelingly defensive. "If Marian told you that she had been more to blame than I, she let her generosity do her a wrong.
You've been inflamed into the Mohammedan's spirit of a holy war and you're ready to make a burnt offering of me and my love." "Now," she said with a faintness that was almost a whisper, "you must go, whether you agree or not. You distrust me and insult me ... and I don't think ... I can stand many ... interviews like this." But Farquaharson's curb had slipped.
Stuart Farquaharson's cheeks paled under an emotion so powerful that instead of exciting him it carried a sense of being tremendously sobered yet shaken and tried to the limit of endurance. "You've forbidden me to make love to you," he said desperately, "and I'm trying to obey, but God knows, dear, there are times when " He broke off with an abrupt choke in his throat.
Later the men with New York reputations would be claiming Stuart Farquaharson's discovery, and here in the Rhode Island town they had recognized him first. They had no intention of relinquishing that distinction which goes with the first clear heralding of a rising genius. As Eben Tollman read these details in cold type, each note of their eulogium scorched a nerve of his own jealous antipathy.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking