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Updated: May 5, 2025
On one side of my dressing-room Archie Lammerton had provided a huge closet containing the latest devices for the keeping of a multitudinous wardrobe; there was a reading-lamp, and the easiest of easy-chairs, imported from England, while between the windows were shelves of Italian walnut which I had filled with the books I had bought while at Cambridge, and had never since opened.
"That's all very well," I said impatiently, "but when one has to live in a house, one wants something more than artistic irregularity. Lammerton knows how to build for everyday existence; he's a practical man, as well as a man of taste, he may not be a Christopher Wrenn, but he understands conveniences and comforts.
"Of course it's a good reason," I assured her. "These people the people we know wouldn't have had Lammerton unless he was satisfactory. What's the matter with his houses?" "Well," said Maude, "they're not very original. I don't say they're not good, in away, but they lack a certain imagination.
"Oh, I'm sure it will turn out all right," she replied. "Now you'd better run along, I know you're late." "I am late," I admitted, rather lamely. "If you don't care for Lammerton's drawings, we'll get another architect." Several years before Mr. Lammerton had arrived among us with a Beaux Arts moustache and letters of introduction to Mrs. Durrett and others.
We knew that at Lammerton upon the sea coast there was coal, and consequently the sand-stone strata; and reasoning upon those data we were sure that our proper course of investigation was to trace the river Ey to the shore, and then go south the coast in search of the junction of the schistus with the horizontal strata.
If Lammerton builds satisfactory houses, he ought to be forgiven for being the fashion, he ought to have a chance." I got up to leave. "Let's see what kind of a plan he'll draw up, at any rate." Her glance was almost indulgent. "Of course, Hugh. I want you to be satisfied, to be pleased," she said. "And you?" I questioned, "you are to live in the house more than I."
"Of course it's a good reason," I assured her. "These people the people we know wouldn't have had Lammerton unless he was satisfactory. What's the matter with his houses?" "Well," said Maude, "they're not very original. I don't say they're not good, in away, but they lack a certain imagination.
If Lammerton builds satisfactory houses, he ought to be forgiven for being the fashion, he ought to have a chance." I got up to leave. "Let's see what kind of a plan he'll draw up, at any rate." Her glance was almost indulgent. "Of course, Hugh. I want you to be satisfied, to be pleased," she said. "And you?" I questioned, "you are to live in the house more than I."
If Lammerton builds satisfactory houses, he ought to be forgiven for being the fashion, he ought to have a chance." I got up to leave. "Let's see what kind of a plan he'll draw up, at any rate." Her glance was almost indulgent. "Of course, Hugh. I want you to be satisfied, to be pleased," she said. "And you?" I questioned, "you are to live in the house more than I."
"Oh, I'm sure it will turn out all right," she replied. "Now you'd better run along, I know you're late." "I am late," I admitted, rather lamely. "If you don't care for Lammerton's drawings, we'll get another architect." Several years before Mr. Lammerton had arrived among us with a Beaux Arts moustache and letters of introduction to Mrs. Durrett and others.
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