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Updated: May 7, 2025
No words could have told him more plainly that she loved Lightmark that Dick had merely to speak. Their silence only lasted a moment; but it seemed to Rainham, who had not shifted his position or moved a muscle, that it stretched over an interminable space of time.
When they had dined, sitting at their favourite table, which, from its position at the end, commanded a view of the bright exotic room, with its cosmopolitan contents, their wants cared for by the head-waiter, who adored Lightmark for his knowledge of his mother-tongue, recognising and being recognised by the forgotten of their acquaintance, who were also dining there, Lightmark proposed an adjournment to the little theatre in Dean Street hard by, where "Niniche" was being played for the last time by a clever company from across the Channel.
And so now his confidence was only shaken for a moment, and he was able to reply gaily to Rainham's last thrust: "My dear fellow, I expect I talked a good deal of trash last year, after all" a statement which the other did not find it worth while to deny. They had resumed their places at the table, and Lightmark, with a half-sheet of note-paper before him, was dashing off profiles.
But, then, I can knock off a couple of pictures as soon as I have a little time, which will raise the wind again. I know what the public wants, bless it!" Rainham shrugged his shoulders rather wearily. "Poor public! If it wants art made in that spirit, it is worse than I believed." Lightmark looked askance at him, frowning a little, pulling at his long moustache.
Bullen, we are pretty old friends now, and I expect I shall not be down here so often just at present. Allow me to give you a new hat." The foreman's huge fist closed on the artist's slender one. "Thank you, sir! You are such a facetious gentleman. You may depend upon me." "I do," said Lightmark, with a sudden lapse into seriousness, and frowning a little.
"I can't compel you to read this letter," he said in the same studiously calm voice. "I warn you that your honour is gravely interested in its contents, and I will give you five minutes in which to decide. If you still persist in your determination, I have no course left but to send copies of it to some of Rainham's most intimate friends, and to your sister, Mrs. Lightmark."
The narrow, squalid, little street was deserted, and the sound of wheels in the busier thoroughfare at the end was very intermittent. Lightmark buttoned his gloves deliberately, and drew a long breath of the night air before he broke the silence.
You now have the honour of being in the headquarters, the committee-room of the society, and anything like slander, or even truth, will be made an example of." "Don't you find it rather difficult to spread your sheltering wings over what doesn't exist?" hazarded Lightmark amusedly. "Ah, I knew you would say that! You see, that's just where we come in.
And when it was finished, Rainham and the small coterie of artists who were intimate with Lightmark were generously enthusiastic in their expressions of approval. "But I don't know about the Academy, old man," said one of these critics dubiously, after the first spontaneous outburst of discussion. "Of course it's good enough, but it's not exactly their style, you know.
Then, after glancing into the empty drawing-room, Lightmark preceded him up the thick carpeted stairs, on which their footsteps scarcely sounded, and stopped at the door of Eve's boudoir, through which a woman's voice, speaking rather rapidly, and, as it struck him, in a key of agitation, fell upon Rainham's ear with a certain familiarity, though he was sure it was not Eve's, and could not remember when or where he might have heard it.
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