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Updated: May 4, 2025
Longdon came up with me I came here, Friday last, straight." "You parted at the door?" he asked with marked gaiety. She thought a moment she was more serious. "Yes but only for a day or two. He's coming tonight." "Good. How delightful!" "He'll be glad to see you," Nanda said, looking at the flowers. "Awfully kind of him when I've been such a brute." "How a brute?"
Cashmore had a happy remembrance. "Why, this is Friday she must have gone to-day. But does she stay so late?" "She was to go afterwards to little Aggie: I'm trying so, in spite of difficulties," Mrs. Brook explained, "to keep them on together." She addressed herself with a new thought to Mr. Longdon.
"No," Mr. Longdon attentively assented; "she'll hardly fear we're plotting her ruin. But what then has happened to her?" "Well," said Mitchy, "it's you, I think, who will have to give it a name. I know you know what I've known." Mr. Longdon, his nippers again in place, hesitated. "Yes, I know." "And you've accepted it." "How could I help it? To reckon with such cleverness !" "Was beyond you?
"Why the fact that we still like him." Mr. Longdon stared. "Do YOU still like him?" "If I didn't how should I mind ?" But on the utterance of it Mitchy fairly pulled up. His companion, after another look, laid a mild hand on his shoulder. "What is it you mind?" "From HIM? Oh nothing!" He could trust himself again. "There are people like that great cases of privilege." "He IS one!" Mr.
"I don't say you're more minute I say he's more brilliant. Besides, as I've told you before, you're not one of us." With which, as a check to further discussion, she went straight on to Mr. "Well, of what?" Mr. Longdon boldly demanded while his hostess appeared thoughtfully to falter. She addressed herself mutely to Vanderbank, in whom the movement produced a laugh.
Vanderbank spoke with a certain discernible impatience not so much of the fact he mentioned as of the turn of their talk. It might have been in almost compassionate deprecation of this weak note that Mrs. Brookenham looked at him. Her own reply to Mr. Cashmere's question, however, was uttered at Mr. Longdon.
But it's not," he pursued, "only because she's so young that for each of us, and for dear old Mitchy too she's so interesting." Mr. Longdon had restlessly stepped down, and Vanderbank's eyes followed him till he stopped again. "I make out that in spite of what you said to begin with you're conscious of a certain pressure." "In the matter of time?
Longdon." "We must stop that in time." "Do you mean by warning Mr. Longdon and requesting him immediately to tell us? That won't be very pleasant," Mrs. Brookenham noted. "Well then wait and see." She waited only a minute it might have appeared she already saw. "I want him to be kind to Harold and can't help thinking he will."
Longdon now looked hard at Edward. "Oh Mr. Brookenham's, I feel, any day. It's even with YOU, I confess," he said to him, "that I'd rather have that private half-hour." "Done!" Mrs. Brook declared. "I'll send him to you.
The things that are unlike well, are so VERY unlike." Mr. Longdon for a moment, on this, fixed his companion with eyes that betrayed one of the restless little jumps of his mind. "I told you just now that there's something I seem to make out in you." "Yes, that was meant for better things?" Vanderbank frankly took him up. "There IS something, I really believe meant for ever so much better ones.
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