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Sometimes I saw him smiling to himself in the queer, half-scornful way he had done when they first met, and then I was sure he did not; but at other times he would watch her about the room, following every movement as if he couldn't help himself, and that's a bad sign. Lorna has a sister who is married, and she knew the man was going to propose, because he looked like that.
Moreover, in those directions he was a good deal of a student, and he knew more of his own library than of the world outside it. So he shook his head again. "Life!" he said. "You don't mean to say that you think those things" he pointed a half-scornful finger to a pile of novels which had come in from Mudie's that day "really represent life?" "What else?" demanded Miss Penkridge.
In spite of her half-scornful references to "bread-throwing," she joined with evident pleasure in the badinage and more practical fun which struck the note of the supper.
"That Archangel, now," Miriam continued; "how fair he looks, with his unruffled wings, with his unhacked sword, and clad in his bright armor, and that exquisitely fitting sky-blue tunic, cut in the latest Paradisiacal mode! What a dainty air of the first celestial society! With what half-scornful delicacy he sets his prettily sandalled foot on the head of his prostrate foe!
Averil I I you can call me mad if you like, but if you send me away again I believe I shall shoot myself." "What nonsense!" exclaimed Averil, half-angry, half-scornful. He dropped her hands and stood quite still for the space of a few seconds, his face white and twitching. And then, to her utter amazement, he sank heavily into a chair and covered his face with his hands. "Dick!" she ejaculated.
The assistant looked at him with a grim, half-credulous, half-scornful smile. "Have it your own way," he said, "but I oughter tell ye, old man, that I'm the warehouse clerk, and I remember YOU. I'm here for that purpose. But as that thar valise is bought and paid for by somebody else and given to you, it's nothing more to me. Take it or leave it."
He had no idea of taking this attitude before, but the disappointments of the past month, added to this first official notice of his disgrace, had brought forward that dogged, reckless, yet half-scornful obstinacy that was part of his nature. The official smiled. "I suppose, then, you are waiting to hear from the President," he said drily.
He returned the glance with a lightning-like look of diabolical fierceness, and, turning round, stood upon the curbstone and called a hansom. A sense of depression swept over him as he was driven through the crowded streets towards Waterloo. The half-scornful, half-earnest prophecy, to which he had listened years ago in a squalid African hut, flashed into his mind.
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