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Updated: May 18, 2025
Vanborough's swarthy complexion slowly turned pale. He cast one furtive glance at Mr. Kendrew, and turned away again. "Well," he said to the lawyer, "now for your opinion! What is the law?" "The law," answered Mr. Delamayn, "is beyond all doubt or dispute. Your marriage with Miss Anne Silvester is no marriage at all." Mr. Kendrew started to his feet. "What do you mean?" he asked, sternly.
The rising solicitor lifted his eyebrows in polite surprise. If Mr. Kendrew wanted information, why should Mr. Kendrew ask for it in that way? "Do you wish me to go into the law of the case?" he inquired. "I do." Mr. Delamayn stated the law, as that law still stands to the disgrace of the English Legislature and the English Nation.
Vanborough beckoned to Blanche to come to her, and pointed toward the French window opening to the floor. "Would you like to eat your fruit in the garden, Blanche?" "Yes," said Blanche, "if Anne will go with me." Anne rose at once, and the two girls went away together into the garden, hand in hand. On their departure Mr. Kendrew wisely started a new subject.
Kendrew started, and showed the first tokens of interest in the proceedings which had escaped him yet. Mr. Delamayn looked at him for a moment, and went on. "The case," he resumed, "as originally stated by you, and taken down in writing by our head-clerk." Mr. Vanborough's temper began to show itself again. "What have we got to do with that now?" he asked.
Sure to push his way nobody could look at him and doubt it sure to push his way. "Kendrew is an old friend of mine," said Mr. Vanborough, addressing himself to the lawyer. "Whatever you have to say to me you may say before him. Will you have some wine?" "No thank you." "Have you brought any news?" "Yes." "Have you got the written opinions of the two barristers?" "No." "Why not?"
Is there such a thing as hereditary love as well?" Before the guest could answer, his attention was claimed by the master of the house. "Kendrew," said Mr. Vanborough, "when you have had enough of domestic sentiment, suppose you take a glass of wine?" The words were spoken with undisguised contempt of tone and manner. Mrs. Vanborough's color rose.
Presently my glance rested upon a paragraph which stated that two days before a dressing-case belonging to Lady Norah Kendrew disappeared in the most extraordinary manner from the hotel in London where she was staying. Exactly what happened had been related to the enterprising reporter by Lady Norah herself.
A beautiful woman, a clever woman, a woman of unblemished character, and a woman who truly loves you. Man alive! what do you want more?" "I want a great deal more. I want a woman highly connected and highly bred a woman who can receive the best society in England, and open her husband's way to a position in the world." "A position in the world!" cried Mr. Kendrew.
Vanborough; "if you won't consider " "I want a plain answer to my question 'yes, or no." "Let me speak, will you! A man has a right to explain himself, I suppose?" Mr. Kendrew stopped him by a gesture of disgust. "I won't trouble you to explain yourself," he said. "I prefer to leave the house. You have given me a lesson, Sir, which I shall not forget.
Five years passed and the lives of the three men who had sat at the dinner-table in the Hampstead villa began, in their altered aspects, to reveal the progress of time and change. Mr. Kendrew; Mr. Delamayn; Mr. Vanborough. Let the order in which they are here named be the order in which their lives are reviewed, as seen once more after a lapse of five years.
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