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Updated: June 3, 2025
"And Lady Holme's personality is, on the contrary; interesting and uncommon." "Of course. Pimpernel Schley would be an outrage in that Campo Santo of yours. And yet there is a likeness, and she's accentuating it every day she lives." "Why?" "Ask the women why they do the cursed things they do do." "You are a woman-hater?" "Not I. Didn't I say just now that Casa Felice wanted a woman?
Not that I care to see farther not that I have any doubts but I wish you to be convinced in this case, if only to make you sensible of the frequent injustice to which your indulgence of judgment, subjects the critical fastidiousness of mine. What say you; shall we wheel about?" "Why, you are mad, surely. It is now sunset, and we have a good eight miles before we get to Holme's Station."
"Wait till I give her Noo York," returned the American, placidly. It seemed that Lady Holme's secret hostility to Miss Schley was returned by the vestal virgin. LORD HOLME seldom went to parties and never to private views. He thought such things "all damned rot."
He was not invited to great houses any more, but on this public occasion no one with a guinea to spend was unwelcome. To Lady Holme's surprise the day before the concert Fritz informed her that he was going too. "You, Fritz!" she exclaimed. "But it's in the afternoon." "What o' that?" "You'll be bored to death. You'll go to sleep. Probably you'll snore." "Not I."
"Stunnin'!" roared Lord Holme, "simply stunnin'!" "Stunnin'! stunnin'!" exclaimed Mr. Laycock; "Rippin'! There's no other word. Simply rippin'!" "The what? The what?" cried Mrs. Ulford. Mrs. Wolfstein bent down, with expansive affection, over Lady Holme's chair, and clasped the left hand which Lady Holme carelessly raised to a level with her shoulder. "You dear person!
They contained also an account of a motor accident which had occurred the same afternoon between Hyde Park Corner and Knightsbridge. On the wet pavement Lord Holme's new car, which was taking Lady Holme to Cadogan Square at a rapid pace, skidded and overturned, pinning Lady Holme beneath it. While she was on the ground a hansom cab ran into the car.
As she did so she made grimaces, absurd grimaces of pain and misery, like those on the faces of the two women in Mantegna's picture of Christ and the Marys in the Brera at Milan. They are grotesque, yet wonderfully moving in their pitiless realism. But tears fall from the eyes of Mantegna's women and no tears fell from Lady Holme's eyes. Still making grimaces, she sipped the lemonade.
People began to yawn and to assume the peculiar blank expression the bankrupt face that is indicative of thwarted anticipation. Only the Americans who had seen the piece in New York preserved their lively looks and an appearance of being on the qui vive. Lord Holme's blunt brown features gradually drooped, seemed to become definitely elongated.
But his intellect, possibly over-heated and suffering from lack of air, declined to back him up, and left him murmuring rather hopelessly: "The one nation er and the other yes the give and take the give and take. You see my meaning? Yes, yes." Miss Schley said nothing. She looked at Lady Holme's portrait and at hers with serenity, and seemed quite unconscious of the many eyes fastened upon her.
The maid did something to the diamonds in Lady Holme's hair with deft fingers, and the light touch seemed to wake Lady Holme from a reverie. She went to a mirror and looked into it steadily. The maid stood behind. After a moment Lady Holme lifted her hand suddenly to her head, as if she were going to take off her tiara. The maid could not repress a slight movement of startled astonishment.
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