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Updated: September 21, 2025
But on entering the adjoining room he heard the knocking repeated this time at his own door; and hastening back to put an end to this somewhat undignified form of hide-and-seek, he discovered that this visitor at least was legitimately his, and was, in fact, no other than Professor Anthony Futvoye himself.
The thought that he would presently see Sylvia again made his blood course quicker, while he was fully determined to say no more to her than civility demanded. At one moment he was blessing Professor Futvoye for his happy thought in making use of him; at another he was bitterly recognising that it would have been better for his peace of mind if he had been left alone.
Futvoye and Sylvia, who had just removed their wraps and were gazing in undisguised astonishment on the splendours which met their view. Horace advanced to receive them; he felt he was in for it now, and the only course left him was to put as good a face as he could on the matter, and trust to luck to pull him through without discovery or disaster.
Futvoye, with an irrepressible start; "I mean," she explained, "that, after what took place last night, Anthony my husband very properly feels that an interview would be too painful." "But when we parted he was perfectly friendly." "I can only say," replied the courageous woman, "that you would find him considerably altered now." Horace had no difficulty in believing it.
Old Futvoye was perhaps the least bit of a bore at times, with his interminable disquisitions on Egyptian art and ancient Oriental character-writing, in which he seemed convinced that Horace must feel a perfervid interest, as, indeed, he thought it politic to affect.
Futvoye; "but I don't object to your coming here occasionally, as an ordinary visitor. Only understand this until you can prove to my husband's satisfaction that you are able to support Sylvia in the manner she has been accustomed to, there must be no formal engagement. I think I am entitled to ask that of you."
The Jinnee removed his hat with both hands, and stood silent and impassive. "Let me present you to Miss Sylvia Futvoye," Ventimore continued, "the lady whose name you have already heard." There was a momentary gleam in Fakrash's odd, slanting eyes as they lighted on Sylvia's shrinking figure, but he made no acknowledgment of the introduction.
No, it was all over; he must consider himself dropped. "After all," he told himself, with a short and anything but mirthful laugh, "it's natural enough. Mrs. Futvoye has probably been making inquiries about my professional prospects. It's better as it is. What earthly chance have I got of marrying unless I can get work of my own? It's all I can do to keep myself decently.
Futvoye, as she extricated herself from Sylvia's arms and turned to face Horace. "From all I hear, Mr. Ventimore, you're not in a position to marry at present." "Unfortunately, no" said Horace; "I'm making nothing as yet. But my chance must come some day. I don't ask you to give me Sylvia till then." "And you know you like Horace, mother!" pleaded Sylvia. "And I'm ready to wait for him, any time.
If Miss Sylvia Futvoye had indeed felt attracted towards him at one time it was not altogether incomprehensible.
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