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Updated: June 3, 2025
A man's outlook is different." "Do you mean that Nick would overlook a thing of this kind?" asked Daisy. Hunt-Goring nodded thoughtfully. "I think he would condone many things that you would regard as inexcusable, even monstrous. Otherwise, he would scarcely have been selected for his present job." Daisy was silent.
"My brother," he said with emphasis, "is the gentleman of our family. He has never yet done anything that couldn't have been proclaimed from the house-tops." Hunt-Goring uttered his sneering laugh. "What touching loyalty! My dear fellow, your brother is the biggest blackguard of you all, if you only knew it." "You lie!" Violently came the words; they were as the sudden bursting of the storm.
"He broke his thumb the other day and we haven't been quit of him since. You see, Miss Ratcliffe has a most beautiful friend staying with her with whom we all fall in love at first sight. Some of us fall out again and some of us don't. Hunt-Goring presumably belongs to the latter category." "And you?" asked Sir Kersley. "Oh, I am too busy for frivolities of that sort," said Max.
Peggy laughed, nodding her fair head with saucy assurance. "He promised, Mummy." "But, dearie," protested Daisy, "you can't ride Noel's horse. You'd be frightened, and so would Mummy." Peggy laughed again, the triumphant laugh of one who possesses private information. "Noel wouldn't let me be frightened," she said, with confidence. "Who is Noel?" asked Hunt-Goring. Peggy looked at him.
He was on the verge of speaking when there came the sudden rush of Peggy's eager feet, and she darted out upon the verandah, and raced to Noel with a squeal of delight. Noel caught her in his arms. He had never been more pleased to see her. He did not look at Hunt-Goring again, and the words on Hunt-Goring's lips remained unspoken. "Let's go! Let's go!" cried Peggy.
He took out another cigarette with the words, flinging her a sidelong glance as he did it. But Daisy was silent, looking straight before her. "Surely," said Hunt-Goring, through a cloud of aromatic smoke, "whether there is anything in the tale or not, the fewer that know of it the better." "Oh, I don't know." Daisy spoke as if compelled. "No woman ought to be married blindfold.
"My dear little woman, that wasn't the point of my enquiry." Daisy stiffened. She suddenly began to sew very fast indeed, without speaking. Her pretty lips were compressed, but Hunt-Goring seemed sublimely unconscious of the fact. He smiled to himself as at some inward thought. "You did say his name was Wyndham, I think?" he said, after a moment. "I did," said Daisy.
"Oh, it isn't possible!" protested Daisy. "It simply can't be. How did you hear all this?" Hunt-Goring laughed. "How does one ever hear anything? I told you I didn't vouch for the truth of it." "I wonder what I ought to do," said Daisy. "Do?" He looked at her. "What do you contemplate doing? Is it up to you to do anything?" Daisy scarcely saw or heard him. "I am thinking of little Olga.
"The whelp seems pleased with himself," he observed to Daisy, with a sneering smile. "I presume that Fortune in the form of Miss Olga Ratcliffe favours the brave." "He's very handsome, isn't he?" said Daisy, smiling back not without a touch of malice. "Who could help favouring such an Adonis?" "Not you, I'm sure," said Hunt-Goring, "or the charming Peggy either.
"Very good of you," said Major Hunt-Goring, his eyes boldly passing her to rest upon Violet. "Managed to crack my thumb tinkering at my old motor. Dr. Wyndham tells me that you have been kind enough to ask me to lunch. How do you do, Miss Campion? Charmed to meet you! Someone told me you were yachting in the Atlantic." "Heaven forbid!" said Violet.
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