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Updated: June 7, 2025
But he had no doubt that if he persisted in his refusal she would make up her mind to write. "She does not wish me to go unless with a full conviction that she is right," said Fyne solemnly. "She's very exacting," I commented. And then I reflected that she was used to it. "Would nothing less do for once?"
One at least of his wife's girl-friends had become more than a mere shadow for him. I surmised however that it was not of the girl-friend but of his wife that Fyne was thinking. He was an excellent husband. I prepared myself for the afternoon's hospitalities, calling in the farmer's wife and reviewing with her the resources of the house and the village. She was a helpful woman.
It changed her very much, observed Fyne. He, naturally, played a subordinate, merely approving part. All he could do for Miss de Barral personally was to go downstairs and put her into the fly himself, while Miss de Barral's nearest relation, having been shouldered out of the way, stood by, with an umbrella and a little black bag, watching this proceeding with grim amusement, as it seemed.
"What was one to do," exclaimed Mrs Fyne with almost comic exasperation. "Are you reproaching me with being too impulsive?" And she went on telling me that she was not that in the least. Always! But I had not been there to see the face of Flora at the time. If I had it would be haunting me to this day.
And it is a fact that the worst shocks of life are often received without outcries, without gestures, without a flow of tears and the convulsions of sobbing. The insatiable governess missed these signs exceedingly. This pitiful stolidity was only a fresh provocation. Yet the poor girl was deadly pale. "I was cold," she used to explain to Mrs. Fyne. "I had had time to get terrified.
I think that I have no sagacity no practical sagacity." Fyne made an inarticulate bass murmur of protest. I asked after the children whom I had not seen yet since my return from town. They had been very well. They were always well.
Amongst these consequences I could perceive undesirable cousins for these dear healthy girls, and such like, possible causes of embarrassment in the future. "No! You can't be serious," Mrs. Fyne's smouldering resentment broke out again. "You haven't thought " "Oh yes, Mrs. Fyne! I have thought. I am still thinking. I am even trying to think like you." "Mr. Marlow," she said earnestly.
Fyne at the cottage. "Why didn't you do it?" I asked point- blank. She said: "I am not a very plucky girl." She looked up at me and added meaningly: "And you know it. And you know why." I must remark that she seemed to have become very subdued since our first meeting at the quarry. Almost a different person from the defiant, angry and despairing girl with quivering lips and resentful glances.
Having seen two successive wives of the delicate poet chivied and worried into their graves, she had adopted that cool, detached manner to meet her gifted father's outbreaks of selfish temper. It had now become a second nature. I suppose she was always like that; even in the very hour of elopement with Fyne.
The good little man paused and then added weightily: "I didn't tell that to my brother-in-law I mean, my wife's views." "No," I said. "What would have been the good?" "It's positive infatuation," agreed, little Fyne, in the tone as though he had made an awful discovery. "I have never seen anything so hopeless and inexplicable in my life.
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