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Updated: April 30, 2025
Within the breakfast-room a low chatter of voices was slowly rising to the level of ordinary conversation. My entrance was anything but jaunty. This was the first intimation I had received of the Jervaises' piety; and my recognition of the ceremonial of family worship to which I had so unintuitively listened, had evoked long undisturbed memories of my boyhood.
As I turned off the road and breasted the lower slopes of the hill, I was constructing the details of the Jervaises' explanatory visit to the Atkinsons. I had reached the point of making Mrs. Jervaise repeat the statement she had made in the Hall that "dear Brenda was so impossibly headstrong," when I heard the sweet, true notes of some one ahead of me, whistling, almost miraculously, in tune.
I hoped that when we arrived at the Farm, Anne might see me carrying it, and realise that even a writer of foolish comedies, who was well off and belonged to the Jervaises' class, might aspire to be the equal of her brother. "It's all right," Banks said, and his manner struck a curious mean between respect and friendship. I laid hold of the suit-case and took it from him almost by force.
They were taking refuge in their house. Presently... "Given it up?" I remarked with stupid politeness to Miss Tattersall. "They've sent John round to the stables to inquire," she told me. I do not know how she knew. "John" was the only man-servant that the Jervaises employed in the house; butler, footman, valet and goodness knows what else. "Mrs.
"Nora and I agreed about that before we came down to prayers. But there's a difficulty that seems, for the moment, insuperable." "Which is?" I prompted her. "No conveyance," she explained. "There aren't any Sunday trains on the loop line, Hurley Junction is fifteen miles away, and the Jervaises' car is Heaven knows where and the only other that is borrowable, Mr.
I knew that I should get a version noticeably different from the one her brother had given me on the hill that morning. "But you said that your father hadn't much respect for the Jervaises?" I stipulated. "Not for the Jervaises as individuals," she amended, "but he has for the Family. And they aren't so much a family to him as an Idea, an Institution, a sort of Religion.
The choice that lay before me appeared suddenly vital; a climax in my career, a symbol of the essential choice that would determine my future. On the one hand was the security of refusal. I could return, unaffected, to my familiar life. Presently, when the Jervaise nerves had become normal again, the Jervaises themselves would recognise the egregious blunder they had made in their treatment of me.
"I asked because you seemed to suggest just now that he had gone off with the Jervaises' motor," I remarked. Hughes stroked his long thin nose with his thumb and forefinger. It seemed to take him about a minute from bridge to nostril.
Sturton and his congregation would have to wait ten minutes or so in patient expectation before they could begin their devotions. And I would gladly have effaced myself if only to save the Jervaises the vexation of a still further delay. But I was too near the line of their approach. Any attempt at retreat would have been a positive rudeness.
"My mother," she broke in. "The Jervaises mean nothing to her, nothing of that sort. She wasn't brought up on it. It isn't in her blood. In a way she's as good as they are. Her grandfather was an emigré from the Revolution not titled except just for the 'de', you know they had an estate near Rouen ... but all this doesn't interest you." "It does, profoundly," I said.
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