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Updated: June 17, 2025
And with a few more vague compliments and remarks about the weather, Lady Winsleigh took her departure. Left alone, the actress threw herself back in her chair and laughed. "That woman's up to some mischief," she exclaimed sotto voce, "and so is Lennie! I wonder what's their little game? I don't care, as long as they'll keep the high-and-mighty Errington in his place. I'm tired of him!
"Oh, Lennie!" she whispered, finally, as if he were a little boy. "It isn't true, is it?" Haldane did not reply. She reached out the little red book to him slowly. "You'd you'd better read it. I found it this afternoon." He took the book, without wonder, and went back, softly closing the door on her. Unconsciously he sat down before the little, cheap, oak desk Ida's desk and began to read.
Have you read the book?" "No, Mr. Kaine," Mary Esseltyn interrupted, "Mr. Chilcote hasn't read the book." Lillian laughed. "Outline the story for him, Lennie," she said. "I love to see other people taking pains." Kaine glanced at her admiringly. "Well, to begin with," he said, amiably, "two men, an artist and a millionaire, exchange lives. See?" "You may presume that he does see, Lennie." "Right!
But that feeling of self-contempt soon passed she was no better and no worse than other women of her set, she thought after all, what had she to be ashamed of? Nothing, except except perhaps, her "little affair" with "Lennie." A new emotion now stirred her blood one of malice and hatred, mingled with a sense of outraged love and ungratified passion for she still admired Philip to a foolish excess.
"The Revolutionary, Lennie!" Lillian corrected, softly. "Bramfell says he has changed the whole face of things " She laughed softly and meaningly as she closed her fan. "So good of you to come, Jack!" she added. "Let me introduce you to Miss Esseltyn; I don't think you two have met. This is Mr. Chilcote, Mary the great, new Mr. Chilcote." Again she laughed.
But they seem almost happy, in a jog trot sort of a way, along the old trail the Midlands to Indiar, and Indiar to the Midlands, with bwidge between. We swing round a curve south-westerly and into a tunnel and out again and up from the plain up and up high rocky hills on either side with bushes and trees growing amongst rocks; another Pass of Lennie, I'd like to call it, on a larger scale.
"I'm in no hurry, thank you, Johanna." But now was heard the knock after knock of the little boys and girls, and there began that monotonous daily round of school labor, rising from the simplicities of c, a, t, cat, and d, o, g, dog to the sublime heights of Pinnock and Lennie, Telemaque and Latin Delectus.
Lilian is thinking of the prisoner, Lennie wondering aloud, "How does Alma like having to go to hell for lying about Henry?" Cyril is terribly agitated at this. He has scarcely yet recovered from his long mental illness after Henry's sentence. Marion is not happy she may never allude to Henry. The slightest reference to him makes Cyril ill.
Even if she broke down, if at last, after all these years, she were to cry, she'd find herself in the lock-up as like as not. But at the thought of crying it was as though little Lennie leapt in his gran's arms. Ah, that's what she wants to do, my dove. Gran wants to cry.
"I don't want to talk about Lennie, as you call him," she said, rather testily "Only I think you'd better be careful how far you go with him. I came to consult you on something quite different. What are you going to do about the Bruce-Errington business? You know it was in the Post to-day that they've arrived in town. The idea of Sir Philip bringing his common wife into society!
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