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Updated: May 18, 2025
What struck him as noteworthy was that Killigrew should have been satiated with the personal, which he had cultivated so assiduously, at the moment when, or so it seemed to him, Ishmael, after a life spent for so long in the impersonal, might be expected to react in exactly the opposite direction.
"So, Miss Killigrew, you believe that this treasure should be handed over to its legal owner?" Breitmann looked into her eyes for the first time that evening. "I have some doubt about the legal ownership, but the sentimental and moral ownership is his. A romance should always have a pleasant ending." "You are thinking of books," was Cathewe's comment.
Another shadow had just parted from it and was coming to the door the figure of Judith. She had been out when Georgie entered out for a walk, Mrs. Penticost had said. Georgie skipped back to bed full of excitement. She had guessed before that Judy cared about Killigrew, and now, judging by that parting, they were engaged and everything was to be all right.
I want to wipe out those obligations. If I could do that, the next time I saw him I'd hand him over." "You're a sentimental duffer, Crawffy," said the artist, smiling. "And I shouldn't love him at all if he wasn't," the wife defended. "But this Webb affair doesn't add up right," said Killigrew morosely. "There's th' hull game," declared Haggerty.
He came to a pause at last, aware that he had missed the way to the hotel where he was to sup with Carminow and Killigrew. He looked at the name of the street he was in, and saw that it was the name Carminow had mentioned as being that of the street where Hilaria was lodged. He stood between the rows of houses and tried to realise that one of them sheltered Hilaria.
Two mornings later the newspapers announced the important facts that Miss Kitty Killigrew had gone to Bar Harbor for the week, and that the famous uncut emeralds of the Maharajah of Something-or-other-apur had been stolen; nothing co-relative in the departure of Kitty and the green stones, coincidence only. The Indian prince was known the world over as gem-mad.
I thought from Ruan's mention of her you had neither of you heard." "Heard what?" "Why," said Carminow in rather a shocked voice, "about her illness." "No!..." exclaimed Ishmael and Killigrew in a breath; and Killigrew went on: "What illness? I can't imagine the Hilaria we used to know ill." "She's not the Hilaria we used to know, I'm afraid. You would hardly recognize her.
And for the first time that night Killigrew smiled. "Where's Kitty?" He started to his feet. "She hasn't got back from the opera yet. She'll be the death of me, one of these fine days. You know her. Like as not she's stepped out of her cab to see what's going on, and has lost herself." "But the Crawfords were with her." "Would that make any difference with Kitty if she wanted to get out?
He was familiar with precious gems, marbles he knew and cameos; he could point out the weakness in a drawing, the false effort in a symphony; he was something of mutual interest to every man and woman he met. So it fell out very well that Admiral Killigrew was fond of butterflies. Still, he should have been equally glad to know that the sailor's hobby inclined toward the exploits of pirates.
At noon to the 'Change, after being at the Coffee-house, where I sat by Tom Killigrew, who told us of a fire last night in my Lady Castlemaine's lodging, where she bid L40 for one to adventure the fetching of a cabinet out, which at last was got to be done; and the fire at last quenched without doing much wrong.
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