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Updated: May 23, 2025
The latter was bluff, hearty, and slightly inclined to be boisterous in manner; while Dr Loder's every word and every movement, nay his whole appearance, suggested peace, quietness, and perfect restfulness, as well as by some subtlety of manner a vague but none the less distinct impression that things were going well with one.
He had been but five days at home, and already the quiet, grass-grown court of Clifford's Inn, the bare staircase, the comfortless privacy of Loder's rooms seemed a haven of refuge. The speed with which this hunger had returned frightened him. He walked forward rapidly and without encountering a check. Then, suddenly, the spell was broken.
The man eyed him half stupidly, half timidly. "Well?" Loder insisted. "Well, sir," Renwick responded, with some slowness; "you look the same and you look different. A healthier color, perhaps, sir and the eye clearer." He grew more confident under Loder's half-humorous, half-insistent gaze. "Now that I look closer, sir " Loder laughed. "That's it!" he said. "Now that you look closer.
Then, still acting automatically, he moved to the door, opened it, and stood aside while she passed out into the corridor. In complete silence they descended the stairs and passed to the hall door. There Crapham, who had returned to his duties since Loder's entrance, came quickly forward with an offer of service.
Chilcote laughed suddenly. "How easily we sum up, when a matter is impersonal! My father may have been a fine figure, but he shouldn't have left me to climb to his pedestal." Loder's eyes questioned. In his newly awakened interest he had let his pipe go out. "Don't you grasp my meaning?" Chilcote went on. "My father died and I was elected for East Wark.
On Saturday, however, and it most rarely occurs once, I remember, when a very civil nursemaid was sitting with two charmingly behaved little children in the sunshine, and I heard they were my old friend Major Loder's son's children on Saturday, as I was saying, my own particular little haunt was already occupied. She glanced back at him from out of her thoughts, as it were. 'By a gentleman.
Of all those gathered together in the great building on that day, only one man appreciated the difficulty of Loder's position and that man was Loder himself. He rose slowly and stood silent for a couple of seconds, his body braced, his fingers touching the sheaf of notes that lay in front of him. To the waiting House the silence was effective.
From Loder's station, we had travelled thus far on our way to Peel's river, without having any road or track to follow, and I had marked the trees along our line of route, which certainly seemed favourable for a cart-road in that direction. Near Carrabobbila, we came upon the track leading to Wallamoul, which was more circuitous, passing by other cattle stations in the plains.
Some strangers were being shown over the Terrace when he and Fraide reached the House, and, noticing the open door, the old man paused. "I never refuse fresh air," he said. "Shall we take another breath of it before settling down?" He took Loder's arm and drew him forward. As they passed through the door-way the pressure of his fingers tightened.
To fully appreciate a great announcement we must have time at our disposal. At the moment of Loder's disclosure time was denied to Eve; for scarcely had the words left his lips before the thought that dominated him asserted its prior claim. Blind to the incredulity in her eyes, he drew her swiftly forward, and half impelling, half supporting her forced her to descend the stairs.
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