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And such a flimsy coat! Might not the dear child be allowed to judge for herself in a matter purely of her own feelings?" Mrs. Le Geyt, with just the shadow of a shrug, was all sweet reasonableness. She smiled more suavely than ever.
"There was another, you must remember: his uncle Alfred." "Alfred Le Geyt?" "No; HE died in his bed, quietly. Alfred Faskally." "What a memory you have!" I cried, astonished. "Why, that was before our time in the days of the Chartist riots!" She smiled a certain curious sibylline smile of hers. Her earnest face looked prettier than ever.
Not even accidental murderers, like my poor friend Le Geyt. I saw at once the prima facie evidence was strongly against her. But I had faith in her still. I drew myself up firmly, and stared him back full in the face. "I do not believe it," I answered, shortly. "You do not believe it? I tell you it is so. The girl herself as good as acknowledged it to me." I spoke slowly and distinctly. "Dr.
The face, the clad figure, the dress, all were different. But the body the actual frame and make of the man the well-knit limbs, the splendid trunk no disguise could alter. It was Le Geyt himself big, powerful, vigorous. That ill-made suit, those baggy knickerbockers, the slouched cap, the thin thread stockings, had only distorted and hidden his figure.
"Are you not taking it for granted that, if he meant suicide, he would blow his brains out in his own house? But surely that would not be the Le Geyt way. They are gentle-natured folk; they would never blow their brains out or cut their throats. For all we know, he may have made straight for Waterloo Bridge," she framed her lips to the unspoken words, unseen by Mrs.
"Surely, Lina," she remonstrated, in her frankest and most convincing tone, "I must know best what is good for dear Ettie, when I have been watching her daily for more than six months past, and taking the greatest pains to understand both her constitution and her disposition. She needs hardening, Ettie does. Hardening. Don't you agree with me, Hugo?" Le Geyt shuffled uneasily in his chair.
Le Geyt won't live long enough." I started. "You think not?" "I don't think, I am sure of it. We are at the fifth act now. I watched Mr. Le Geyt closely all through lunch, and I'm more confident than ever that the end is coming. He is temporarily crushed; but he is like steam in a boiler, seething, seething, seething. One day she will sit on the safety-valve, and the explosion will come.
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