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Updated: May 13, 2025
"I haven't seriously contemplated marriage for eight years," he said, his mouth twitching a little as with a smile suppressed. "Not since the day I tried to steal Maud Brian away from Jake and failed rather signally. I don't think I've ever done anything quite so low down since." Larpent lighted his pipe with grave attention. "A good thing for you both that you did fail!" he observed. "Think so?"
"That isn't the point, is it?" said Larpent. "No? What is the point?" Saltash turned again to the whisky decanter. "Well, you've got me into a damn' hole, and I want to know how you're going to get me out again." Larpent's voice was gruff and surly; he stared into his tumbler without drinking. Saltash chuckled to himself with mischievous amusement. "My dear chap, I can't get you out.
Get the cigars, Murray!" he commanded the steward; and to Larpent as the man went to obey, "That's decent of you. Thought you were going to refuse. I was damned offensive a while back. Accept my apologies! Fact is I'm fed up with this show. Sorry if I disappoint you, but I'm going home." "You never disappoint me, my lord," said Larpent, with his enigmatical smile.
"Who who is it from?" Larpent's far-seeing eyes came gravely to meet her own. "From Rozelle Daubeni," he said. "Ah!" A quick shiver went through Toby. She averted her look. "I don't want to hear it," she said. "I've got to deliver it," said Larpent, with a hint of doggedness. "And you've got to listen. But you needn't be afraid. It isn't going to make any difference to you.
He was sitting so, bent forward, his hands clasped in front of him when Saltash returned. He had the worn, grey look of a man tired out with hard travel. Saltash poured out a drink and held it down to him. "Here's the stuff! Drink, man! It'll put new life into you." Larpent drank, still in that slow, mechanical fashion.
With an impatient shrug he turned. Why was he lingering here like a drunken reveller at a table of spilt wine? He would go down to his yacht and find Larpent Larpent who had also loved and lost. They would go out on the turn of the tide the two losers in the game of life and leave the spilt wine behind them. Impulsively he strode back along the ramparts.
I nearly broke through once, but the wreck pulled me up, and when I recovered from that, I was more hopelessly lost than before." "So you are not enjoying it either!" remarked Larpent, with the glimmer of a smile. "But you don't seem to have let her down very far." Saltash brought his foot down with a bang. "I swore I'd keep her with me. I meant oh, God knows what I meant to do.
There's heaps of game in the woods and no one to shoot it." "He probably knows his own business best," remarked Larpent. "Oh, probably. But the place is wasted on him for all that." Bunny spoke with a frown. "Why on earth he doesn't marry and settle down I can't think. Can't you persuade him to?" "No," said Larpent quite definitely. Bunny glanced at him. "I don't know why not.
Jake and Larpent were smoking in silent companionship at a comfortable distance. Toby, who had been very quiet the whole evening, sat silently apart in a low chair with her hands clasped about her knees. Bunny alone was restless. She lifted her eyes to him as he prowled near her, and they held a hint of mischief. At his murmured words she rose. "You'd like to?" he questioned. She nodded.
On the other hand, M. Larpent has now shown that the Arundel drawing was down in a catalogue of 1746-7 as: "One Holbein, Sieur de Moret, one of the French hostage in England"; and also that a "Chas. sieur de Morette" is recorded among the four French hostages sent to England in 1519.
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