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That isn't the way one wants people to feel about one's husband, is it? And as to going to China with him, you know that's impossible, don't you?" "It would be impossible to let him go without me." "Really, Mathilde!" said Mrs. Farron, gently, as if she, so willing to play fair, were being put off with fantasies. "I don't understand you," she added. "No, Mama; you don't."
Adelaide rose slowly to her feet, and, walking to her husband's dressing-table, repinned her hat, and caught up the little stray locks which grew in deep, sharp points at the back of her head. "You'll come down, too?" she said. Farron was looking about for his coat, and as he put it on he observed dryly: "The young man is seeing all the family." "Oh, he won't mind," she answered.
Mathilde murmured to Pete: "Who are they talking about?" "A mixture of Alcibiades and Bill Sykes," said Adelaide, catching the low tone, as she always did. "He's the district leader and a very bad influence," said Mrs. Wayne. "He's a champion middle-weight boxer," said Pete. "He's the head of my stevedores," said Farron. "O Mr. Farron," Mrs.
And surely, if Farron had stood out in his calmness and courage above all other men, the doctor would have mentioned it, couldn't have helped doing so; he certainly would not have spent so much time in telling her how she was to guard and encourage him. To the doctor he was only a patient, a pitiful human being, a victim of mortality. Was that what he was going to become in her eyes, too?
But I don't need your help, thank you." She covered her face with her hands. He seemed to her stronger and more cruel than anything she had imagined. In a minute he left her alone. Farron cared, perhaps, no more for appearances than Adelaide did, but his habitual manner was much better adapted to concealment.
"I have been engaging Wayne as a secretary," he said, and, turning to the financial page, glanced down the quotations. "Then you must dismiss him again." "He will be a useful man to me," said Farron, as if she had not spoken. "I have needed some one whom I could depend on " "Vincent, it is absurd for you to pretend you don't know he wanted to marry Mathilde." He did not raise his eyes.
Farron Saftleigh chose to rank a woman's thought and sympathy; nothing practical, nothing that had to do with coarse topics of bond and scrip; taking the common essentials of life for granted, referring to the inignorable catastrophe of the fire as a grand elemental phenomenon and spectacle, and soaring easily away and beyond all fact and literalness, into the tender vague, the rare empyrean.
Farron, but was afraid that, if she did, it would be like intimating that he was as good as dead. She was caught between the negative danger of seeming indifferent and the positive one of being tactless. As soon as Vincent had left the house, Adelaide's thought turned to her daughter. He had gone about six o'clock.
"The point is" and she looked at Wayne "that they were building their elopement on something that turned out to be a fraud. That doesn't make one think very highly of your judgment, Mr. Wayne." "I made a mistake, Mrs. Farron." "It was a bad moment to make one. You have worked three years with this firm and never suspected anything wrong?" "Yes, sometimes I have " Adelaide's eyebrows went up.
She was not allowed two parties on successive nights, not because her health was anything but robust, but rather because her mother considered her too young for such vulgar excess. When she had gone, Farron observed: "That child has a will of iron." "Vincent!" said his wife. "She does everything I suggest to her." "Her will just now is to please you in everything. Wait until she rebels."
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