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Updated: May 5, 2025
He was just dimly aware of young Reiner's exclaiming; "Your turn, Mr. Grisben!" of Mr. Grisben's protesting: "No no; Mr. Faxon first," and of the pen's being thereupon transferred to his own hand. He received it with a deadly sense of being unable to move, or even to understand what was expected of him, till he became conscious of Mr.
At the same moment his uncle turned to him with a renewed intensity of attention. There was such solicitude in Mr. Lavington's gaze that it seemed almost to fling a tangible shield between his nephew and Mr. Grisben's tactless scrutiny. "We think Frank's a good deal better," he began; "this new doctor "
His uncle looked at him gently. "Perhaps Grisben's right. It's an opportunity " Faxon glanced up with a start: the figure dimly perceived in the study was now more visibly and tangibly planted behind Mr. Lavington's chair. "That's right, Frank: you see your uncle approves. And the trip out there with Olyphant isn't a thing to be missed.
"Sorry to have deserted you, but the storm has played the deuce with the wires, and I had to wait a long time before I could get a good connection. It must be blowing up for a blizzard." "Uncle Jack," young Rainer broke out, "Mr. Grisben's been lecturing me." Mr. Lavington was helping himself to terrapin. "Ah what about?" "He thinks I ought to have given New Mexico a show."
At the same moment his uncle turned to him with a renewed intensity of attention. There was such solicitude in Mr. Lavington's gaze that it seemed almost to fling a shield between his nephew and Mr. Grisben's tactless scrutiny. "We think Frank's a good deal better," he began; "this new doctor "
And the trip out there with Olyphant isn't a thing to be missed. So drop a few dozen dinners and be at the Grand Central the day after to-morrow at five." Mr. Grisben's pleasant gray eye sought corroboration of his host, and Faxon, in a cold anguish of suspense, continued to watch him as he turned his glance on Mr. Lavington.
Grisben's paternally pointing out the precise spot on which he was to leave his autograph. The effort to fix his attention and steady his hand prolonged the process of signing, and when he stood up a strange weight of fatigue on all his limbs the figure behind Mr. Lavington's chair was gone. Faxon felt an immediate sense of relief.
So drop a few dozen dinners and be at the Grand Central the day after tomorrow at five." Mr. Grisben's pleasant grey eye sought corroboration of his host, and Faxon, in a cold anguish of suspense, continued to watch him as he turned his glance on Mr. Lavington. One could not look at Lavington without seeing the presence at his back, and it was clear that, the next minute, some change in Mr.
His eyes were still on the table, and he repeated to himself with a trembling vehemence: "I won't look up! I won't.... I won't...." His finders clasped the glass and raised it to the level of his lips. He saw the other hands making the same motion. He heard Mr. Grisben's genial "Hear! Hear!" and Mr. Batch's hollow echo.
Grisben's expression must give his watcher a clue. But Mr. Grisben's expression did not change: the gaze he fixed on his host remained unperturbed, and the clue he gave was the startling one of not seeming to see the other figure.
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