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Updated: June 29, 2025
"You have not tell any one never?" Finden laughed. "Though I'm not a priest, I can lock myself up as tight as anny. There's no tongue that's so tied, when tying's needed, as the one that babbles most bewhiles. Babbling covers a lot of secrets." "So you t'ink it better Meydon should die, as Hadley is away and Brydon is sick hein?" "Oh, I think "
Finden caught a glimpse of a woman's figure, and, without a word, passed abruptly from the dining-room, where they were, into the priest's study, leaving Varley alone. Varley turned to look after him, stared, and shrugged his shoulders. "The manners of the West," he said, good-humoredly, and turned again to the hallway, from whence came the sound of the priest's voice.
Why while the Times talks in this fashion: 'At noon a long line of carriages extended from Pall Mall to the Peers' entrance of the Palace of Westminster, does the Cologne Gazette talk in this other fashion: 'Nachdem die Vorbereitungen zu dem auf dem GurzenichSaale zu Ebren der Abgeordneten Statt finden sollenden Bankette bereits vollstandig getroffen worden waren, fand heute vormittag auf polizeiliche Anordnung die Schliessung sammtlicher Zugange zum Gurzenich Statt'? Surely the mental habit of people who express their thoughts in so very different a manner, the one rapid, the other slow, the one plain, the other embarrassed, the one trailing, the other striding, cannot be essentially the same.
"Bedad! as bright a little spark as ever struck off the steel," added Finden to the priest, with a sidelong, inquisitive look, "but a heart no bigger than a marrowfat pea selfishness, all self. Keepin' herself for herself when there's many a good man needin' her. Mother o' Moses, how many!
The handwriting was unknown to him; the contents were these: 'DEAR MR YULE, It is my desire to write to you with perfect frankness and as simply as I can on a subject which has the deepest interest for me, and which I trust you will consider in that spirit of kindness with which you received me when we first met at Finden.
Finden smiled to himself. "Is it a difficult case?" he asked. "Critical and delicate; but it has been my specialty." "One of the local doctors couldn't do it, I suppose?" "They would be foolish to try." "And you are going away at sunrise to-morrow?" "Who told you that?" Varley's voice was abrupt, impatient. "I heard you say so everybody knows it.... That's a bad man yonder, Varley."
'So you can sit with us and smoke, if you like, said Miss Harrow to Alfred. 'You are never quite at your ease, I think, without a pipe. But the man of letters was too preoccupied for society. In a few minutes he begged that the ladies would excuse his withdrawing; he had two or three letters to write before post-time, which was early at Finden.
The acquaintance between Mrs Milvain and her was only of twelve months' standing; prior to that, Mr Yule had inhabited a house at the end of Wattleborough remote from Finden. 'Our London visitors came yesterday, she began by saying. Mrs Milvain mentioned her son's encounter an hour or two ago. 'No doubt it was they, said the visitor. 'Mrs Yule hasn't come; I hardly expected she would, you know.
"'Tis the light heart she has, and slippin' in and out of things like a humming-bird, no easier to ketch, and no longer to stay," said Finden, the rich Irish landbroker, suggestively to Father Bourassa, the huge French-Canadian priest who had worked with her through all the dark weeks of the smallpox epidemic, and who knew what lay beneath the outer gaiety.
However it was, she drove him into a corner with a question to which he dare not answer yes, but to which he might not answer no, and did not; and she realised that he knew the truth, and she was the better for his knowing, though her secret was no longer a secret. She was not aware that Finden also knew.
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