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Updated: May 19, 2025
"After all," he said, "that may be true." Then Greythorpe came up in search of Millicent, and when she went away with him Challoner saw Mrs. Chudleigh approaching. Obeying her sign he followed her to a seat in the recess in the hall. "Mr. Greythorpe came down yesterday," she said. "I suppose you have already had a talk with him." "Last night.
He crossed the floor and opening a cabinet came back with a photograph, which he gave to his companion. "Dick's father. He was famous as a daring rider across an Irish, stone-wall country, and was killed when taking a dangerous leap." Greythorpe studied the face, which was of Irish type, with bold eyes in which a reckless twinkle showed.
He's too venturesome, though I'll admit that it would have been different if he had succeeded. Still, he has his talents, and I daresay we'll find him useful in a subordinate post. I'm inclined to sympathize with your friend Mrs. Chudleigh." Challoner made no answer to this, and they talked about matters until Blake came in, when Greythorpe left them alone together.
"It was unwise," Greythorpe agreed. "Our friend is by no means amenable to treatment of the kind." "Still you would not let a good officer suffer because of my tactlessness?" "Certainly not; the only thing that could count against any of the men we are considering is some shortcoming of their own."
Keith resolutely crossed the lawn towards them, but her determined expression softened as she approached Challoner. "Do you know that I feel neglected?" she said. "Where are those American azaleas you promised to show me?" Challoner made her an apologetic bow. "Have I been remiss? I saw you with Greythorpe, and understood you found him interesting."
He must, if possible, be convinced that the course she meant to urge was the best, though she had the means of putting pressure on him if this proved needful. "Well," she said, "there is a rather important post vacant in a West African colony and you have influence. Mr. Greythorpe is an intimate friend of yours and may consult you about the matter.
Challoner was white-haired, straight, and spare, with aquiline features and piercing eyes; Greythorpe broad-shouldered and big, with a heavy-jawed, thoughtful face. They had been fast friends since they had met a number of years ago when Challoner was giving evidence before a parliamentary commission. "So you have not heard from Blake after the day he came here," Greythorpe said by and by.
He was famous as a daring rider across an Irish, stone-wall country, and was killed when taking a dangerous leap." Greythorpe studied the face, which was of Irish type, with bold eyes in which a reckless twinkle showed. On the whole, it suggested an ardent and somewhat irresponsible temperament. "No sign of weakness there," he said.
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