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Updated: June 2, 2025
Miss Heydinger it was arranged should be there, and the sceptic Smithers, Lagune, his typewriter and the medium would complete the party. Afterwards there was to be another party for the others. Lewisham was glad he had the moral support of Smithers. "It's an evening wasted," said Smithers, who had gallantly resolved to make the running for Lewisham in the contest for the Forbes medal.
Lewisham, it was remarked by Miss Heydinger, made but a poor figure in this discussion. Once or twice he seemed about to address Lagune, and thought better of it with the words upon his lips. Lagune's treatment of the exposure was light and vigorous. "The man Chaffery," he said, "has made a clean breast of it. His point of view " "Facts are facts," said Smithers.
"We are excellent friends," admitted Lewisham. "But here we are at your diggings." Parkson stared at his "diggings." "There's Heaps I want to talk about. I'll come part of the way at any rate to Battersea. Your Miss Heydinger, I was saying ..."
As he emerged through the folding doors he saw a letter lying among the sketchily laid breakfast things, and Ethel's attitude suggested the recoil of a quick movement; the letter suddenly dropped. Her eyes met his and she flushed. He sat down and took the letter a trifle awkwardly perhaps. It was from Miss Heydinger. He hesitated with it halfway to his pocket, then decided to open it.
They entered the laboratory together, Lewisham holding the door open courtly-wise, Miss Heydinger taking a reassuring pat at her hair. Near the door was a group of four girls, which group Miss Heydinger joined, holding the brown-covered book as inconspicuously as possible. Three of them had been through the previous two years with her, and they greeted her by her Christian name.
So it seemed to many people in those days. But eminent reformers have been now for more than seven years going about the walls of the Social Jericho, blowing their own trumpets and shouting with such small result beyond incidental displays of ill-temper within, that it is hard to recover the fine hopefulness of those departed days. "Yes," said Miss Heydinger. "That would be a grand way."
I can't manage it and go straight. I you've overrated me. And besides Things have happened. Something " He hesitated and then snatched at his resolve, "I've got to simplify and that's the plain fact of the case. I'm sorry, but it is so." Miss Heydinger made no answer. Her silence astonished him. For nearly twenty seconds perhaps they sat without speaking.
The spirit of perversity suggested to Lewisham, "None apparently." Ethel's cheeks glowed and her eyes were bright with unshed tears. Abruptly she abandoned the defensive and blurted out the thing that had been latent so long between them. Her voice took a note of passion. "Nothing I can do ever does please you, since that Miss Heydinger began to write to you." There was a pause, a gap.
That night, as she went with him to Chelsea station, Miss Heydinger discovered an extraordinary moodiness in Lewisham. She had been vividly impressed by the scene in which they had just participated, she had for a time believed in the manifestations; the swift exposure had violently revolutionised her ideas. The details of the crisis were a little confused in her mind.
"Did I ever tell you I was married?" "Married?" "Yes." "Married!" "Yes," a little testily. For a moment neither spoke. Lewisham stood without dignity staring at the dahlias of the London County Council, and Miss Heydinger stood regarding him. "And that is what you have to tell me?" Mr. Lewisham tamed and met her eyes. "Yes!" he said. "That is what I have to tell you." Pause.
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