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Updated: May 13, 2025
"It's disgusting," said his wife; and at this General Triscoe, who had been watching the actress through his lorgnette, said, as if his contrary-mindedness were irresistibly invoked: "Well, I don't know. It's amusing. Do you suppose we shall see her when we go behind, March?" He still professed a desire to do so when the curtain fell, and they hurried to the rear door of the theatre.
She sat down in the third row, and when Gurov looked at her his heart contracted, and he understood clearly that for him there was in the whole world no creature so near, so precious, and so important to him; she, this little woman, in no way remarkable, lost in a provincial crowd, with a vulgar lorgnette in her hand, filled his whole life now, was his sorrow and his joy, the one happiness that he now desired for himself, and to the sounds of the inferior orchestra, of the wretched provincial violins, he thought how lovely she was.
'Some of them, Jane added, deserting her own snobbishness, which was intellectual, for her mother's, which was social, 'are also common. 'There must be very many, said Mrs. Potter, looking through her lorgnette at the garden of girls, 'who are neither. 'Fewer, said Jane, stubbornly, 'than you would think. Most people are one or the other, I find. Many are both.
Because you don't know what to do, And hardly where to go." "Is this the child, David?" "Yes, mother." Eleanor stared impassively into the lenses of Mrs. Bolling's lorgnette. "This is my mother, Eleanor." Eleanor courtesied as her Uncle Jimmie had taught her, but she did not take her eyes from Mrs. Bolling's face. "Not a bad-looking child.
"Well." inquired Franz, after the countess had a second time directed her lorgnette at the box, "what do you think of our opposite neighbor?" "Why, that he is no other than Lord Ruthven himself in a living form." "I must positively find out who and what he is," said Franz, rising from his seat. "No, no," cried the countess; "you must not leave me. I depend upon you to escort me home.
He talked with her a moment, and then she discreetly resumed her lorgnette. "What happened for two years after I left B.? The last year I know something of." "Breakfast, dinner, and tea; the ebb and flow of the tide; and the days of the week." "Nothing more?" And his voice came nearer. "A few trifles." "They are under lock and key, I suppose?" "We do not carry relics about with us."
"Well, nothing's queer to me in the hill country. But you see some characters here." He nodded over his shoulder to where Whitwell stood by the flag-staff, waiting the morning impulse of the ladies. "There's one of the greatest of them now." The lady put up a lorgnette and inspected Whitwell. "What are those strange things he has got in his hatband?"
"Really I must be!" agreed the lady. "Ah!" said Billy softly, commiseratingly. He cocked his head at an angle opposite from the slant of the lorgnette and stared his own amazing canvas out of countenance. "Then, of course," he said, "this hardly conveys " "What are you?" she demanded. "Is this a a school?" "I?" He seemed surprised that there could be any doubt about it. "I am a Post-Cubist."
"Since he is at Paris or Pekin and she is here." "Garvington is looking after her, and he owes Sir Hubert too much, not to see that Agnes is all right." Mrs. Belgrove peered at Lady Garvington through her lorgnette. "I think you talk a great deal of nonsense, Jane, as I said before," she observed. "I don't suppose for one moment that Agnes thinks of Noel, or Noel of Agnes." "Clara Greeby says "
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