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Updated: June 16, 2025
Back to the hot, crumpled couch, there, tossing, to lie attempting a grasp, a realisation of what it all meant.... A dark little office in Dublin.... So much the "Lots" had fetched, so much the balance at the bank; no investments, it was to be feared; no insurance, my dear Miss Humfray; so much the bills and other claims on the estate.... "Don't wish to be bothered with figures?
Men eat meat, wolves eat carrion. Some men are wolf-men Hand me the dictionary, Miss Humfray. Two r's in carrion. I thought so. Thank you." She replaced "Aphorisms." "My dear, I will do what I can for you," she told Mary. "I do believe you. Go into the interview room. I hear a step." That step was George's.
To that entry made in her diary on the night of her arrival she had added two further sentences: "Hate that baby-faced Humfray chit." "Certain cannot stick unless find cat." Opening her diary now she gazed upon these entries; chewed them. They were bitter to the taste.
Armitage, with milk let every bowl and saucer be filled. Fletcher, at intervals of thirty feet along the wall let these be placed. If our wanderer is near she will be attracted. Margaret, with Miss Humfray to the village. Collect an army of village boys. Describe our Rose. Set them to scour the countryside for her. Yourselves join that search. Let the call of 'Rose! Rose! echo through every lane.
He said very quietly, as though moved by pity: "Please do not make matters worse by blustering, Miss Humfray." He sighed: "I bear you no ill-will." My poor Mary allowed herself to be denuded of self-possession. His words put her control to flight; left her exposed. Tears started in her eyes. She made a little rush for the stairs. "Oh, you coward!" she cried. "You coward!
"You've lost the money you wanted, but you've got your you've got Miss Humfray. I've lost my I've lost Margaret." In great melancholy George rose; crossed to his Mary; sat upon the arm of her chair; caressed her pretty shoulders. "You don't know what you're talking about, Bill. Bill, we're in a most fearful hole. We haven't got a sou, and I've got no work. You're doing well. You're making money.
Eyton-Eyton turned upon Mary. "Oh, you little fool!" The rebuke that should have been taken with downcast eyes, murmured apologies, was otherwise received. "Mrs. Eyton! How dare you call me a fool!" Pause of blank amazement; sago-messed table-napkin in the scented hand; sago creeping down the silken skirt. That a nursery governess not even a servant should so presume! "Miss Humfray!
The Girl Comes Near The Lugger. At breakfast upon the following day George set forth the result of his labours; with urgent eloquence extolled the virtues of this Miss Humfray. Before Mr. Marrapit's plate lay an open envelope; upon the back George could read the inscription "Norfolk Street Agency for Distressed Gentlewomen." What had Miss Ram said of his Mary?
They were warmly kind, sympathetic cheery in that lugubrious fashion in which we are taught to be "bright" with the afflicted. But when she spoke of the necessity to find employment they would warmly cry, "Oh, but you must not think of that yet, Miss Humfray ... after all you have been through.... You must keep quiet for a little." One and all gave her the same words.
The command was unusual, and Mary, waiting as bid, worried herself with surmises upon it. She prayed it did not mean she was to soothe Mr. Bob Chater's digestion with lullabies upon the piano; that it boded an unpleasant affair she was assured. She did not err. Mrs. Chater came to her, dyspeptic-flushed, sternly browed. "Miss Humfray, I have one thing to say to you, no more.
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