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Deeply, exquisitely blue, but unshadowed, as innocent of guile, as are a child's eyes. "Somehow, I had a kind of feeling that you would be coming by just now," he said in a rather hesitating voice; "so I left my work and came out on chance." Now, Agnes was very much interested in Mr. Ferrier's work. Mr. Ferrier was not only a writer the only writer she had ever known; he was also a poet.
A bookseller's assistant, well known as one of the leading Socialists of the division, got up and in a suave mincing voice accused Marsham of having not written, but "communicated" the Herald article, and so dealt a treacherous blow at his old friend and Parliamentary leader a blow which had no doubt contributed to the situation culminating in Mr. Ferrier's tragic death.
Ferrier's eyes pursued her the slim round figure, the young loveliness of her head and neck. "Well! what are you thinking about her?" he said, eagerly, turning to the mistress of the house. Lady Lucy smiled. "I should prefer it if she didn't talk politics," she said, with the slightest possible stiffness, "But she seems a very charming girl."
A grim little conversation took place in the cabin between the skipper, the doctor, and the patient. I let the talk explain itself, so that people may understand that Ferrier's proposed hospital was not demanded by a mere faddist.
There, on the table beside him, was Ferrier's reply: "My Dear Oliver, I don't think a letter would do you much good, and for a speech, I am too tired and I am afraid at the present moment too thin-skinned. Pray excuse me. We shall meet when this hubbub is over. All success to you. "Yours ever, J.F." Was there ever a more ungracious, a more uncalled-for, letter?
Madame de Ferrier's individual traits were surprised in this nearness, as they never had been when I saw her at a distance in alien surroundings. A swift ripple, involuntary and glad, coursed down her body; she shuddered for joy half a minute or so.
He was an old man; he had been a warm personal friend of Ferrier's; and the blow had hit him hard. Evidently for a few hours he had been determined to resign; but strong influences had been brought to bear, and he had wearily resumed his task. Reluctantly, Marsham told the story.
Marsham, on his side, recalled with discomfort various small incidents in the House of Commons which might have seemed to an enemy to illustrate or confirm such an explanation of the state of things. Absurd, of course! He was an old friend of Ferrier's, whose relation to his mother necessarily involved close and frequent contact with her son.
Would you? What? Turn Mrs. Walton loose at me? No ladies here, miss, I warn you." "Now, please be good while I go on. I want to repeat Dr. Ferrier's reasoning if I can. You have fish every day mostly twice?" "Yes, but I don't give charity to my butcher. The rascal is able to tip me, if the truth were known." "True, uncle, and you don't need to give anything to your fishmonger.
Only one quarter of an hour passed, and then a vessel came curtseying gracefully down. "What's that?" shouted Ferrier. Larmor pointed to the questioner. "Do you mean it's the yacht?" The skipper nodded. The doctor would have fallen had he not brought all his force to bear; the strain was telling hard, and soon Lewis Ferrier's third stage of education was too be completed.
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