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Updated: July 20, 2025
Her alert ear detected the deeper and less steady note in Gora's always hoarse voice. "It is the same. Did you meet him?...Oh, I remember he told me he met you at the Hofer ball. He rather raved over you, in fact." "Did he? How sweet of him. I met him again, I remember. Mr. Gwynne brought him down to Rincona one day." "Oh?" And Alexina, knew that he had never mentioned that visit.
He is the living image of the painting of your Great-great-great-grandfather Dwight that used to hang in the dining-room in Utica, and who was in the first Congress. Now, do try and make friends with the nicer of the children." But Gora's was not a conciliating nor a compromising nature.
She herself had recovered from that sudden access of horror but she moved still further from, that black and waiting hole. "Are you going to marry Gathbroke?" The gauntlet was down and Alexina felt a sharp sense of relief. She was in no mood for the subtle evasion and she had not the least inclination to turn up her eyes. She made up her mind however to save Gora's pride as far as possible.
But I've always been fascinated by the idea of taking long chances, and I have had inklings that I'll be rather more than less fascinated as I grow older....When are your stories to be published? I am simply expiring to read them." "Are you?" Alexina had thrust her slim index finger unerringly through Gora's bristling armor and tickled her weakest spot.
Those arms had held more than one violent man in his bed. "Better wait," she said softly. Alexina's body grew rigid as she slowly drew back on Gora's arm and stared up at her. In a moment she asked in a hard steady voice: "Is my mother dead?" "Yes. It was very sudden. I had no time to telephone for the doctor; to call you. She was sleeping. I was sitting beside her.
And he had taken her money as he would have taken Gora's, or his parents' had they been alive, because however they might lash him with their contempt, his body was safe from prison, his precious position in society unshaken. She knew him well enough to be sure that if he had had forty thousand dollars of some outsider's money under his hand it would have been safe no matter what his predicament.
An appalling light came into Gora's pale eyes as she turned them, at first in some surprise, on her sister-in-law: "Yes, if I thought he cared...could be made to care if I had the chance...if another woman tried to get him away...yes, I don't fancy I'd stop at anything....Even if I finally were forced to believe that he never could care for me in that way, the only way that counts with men at first, anyway...well, I believe I'd fight to the death just the same.
"Some men have expression in the back of their head. And I just had an idea fantastic, no doubt that my particular Englishman stands up straight." "Yours?" "Yes, I'm feeling quite too fearfully romantic. I'm sure he's looking for me as hard as I am for him. And if I find him I'll keep him." She saw Gora's long brown hands slowly clench until they looked like steel.
He has the strictest ideas; and you " "Haven't. Not, any more. I'm tired of being kept in a glass case being a parasite." She laughed gayly at Gora's look of amazement. "I've had an adventure. Almost the first I ever had." She related it as they walked slowly down the street and up the steps and stairs to the attic. Gora looked very thoughtful as she listened. "Shall you tell Mortimer?"
Miss Bascom, Miss Thorndyke, and an exquisite young thing, Miss Groome " "Oh, those are the haute noblesse." Gora's tipper lip curled satirically. "No doubt they lay claim that their roots mingle with your own." "Well, we'd be proud of 'em." "That was the Hofer ball, wasn't it! Do you mean to say that Alexina Groome was there? Mrs.
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