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They were her complexion, her mouth and her figure; and she was clever, if cleverness be a 'point' in a human being, which is doubtful. It is not considered one in a puppy. Mr. Lushington discouraged the familiarity of men who called him plain 'Lushington. When they were older than he, he felt that they were patronising him; if they were younger, he thought them distinctly cheeky.
He glanced sideways at Margaret's face two or three times, as if he were going to speak, but said nothing, and sent a small cloud straight out before him, with a rather vicious blowing, as if he were trying to make the smoke express his feelings. Margaret knew that trick of his very well. Lushington was an aggressive smoker, and with every puff he seemed to say: 'There! Take that! I told you so!
Hitherto Logotheti had always taken the one that leads to the right bank, along the Avenue de Versailles to the Porte St. Cloud. Another follows the left bank by Bas Meudon, but the most pleasant road goes through the woods Fausses Reposes. One morning, when he knew that there was to be a rehearsal, Lushington bicycled out by the usual way without meeting the motor car.
Lushington, who seemed to take it for granted that she ought to think as men do, and was to be blamed for thinking otherwise, she took especial pains to claim a woman's privileges at every turn. 'I cannot imagine, he said presently, 'how any intelligent person can really believe in such arrant mythology. 'But I make no pretension of "intelligence", murmured Margaret Donne.
'I believe His Majesty possesses those things, answered Lushington, as if he did not like the subject. 'He looked and talked much more like an old friend than anything else, Margaret went on, remembering that Madame Bonanni had used the same expression before Schreiermeyer. To her surprise and sudden discomfiture neither of the two paid the least attention to her remark.
And he also had a dog in London, a particularly rough Irish terrier called Tim; but as Tim would have been quarantined every time he came home it was practically impossible to bring him to the Continent. It will be seen, therefore, that Lushington was really quite alone in the quiet hotel in the Rue des Saints Pères.
She might have hated him and even despised him, but she could never have been indifferent when he was close to her. Sometimes the mere touch of his hand at meeting or parting thrilled her and made her feel as if she were going to blush. But she was never really in sympathy with him as she was with Lushington. 'And now, Margaret, said Mrs.
Lushington did know, and made an odd movement and bent himself, as if something sharp had run into him unawares, and he turned his face away, to hide the look of pain which he could not control. Margaret had hardly spoken the cruel words when she realised what she had done. 'Oh, I'm so sorry! she cried, in dreadful distress, and the voice came from her heart and was quite her own again.
As I look back to the salon in the Rue du Bac, which I saw in such a flash, yet where my hand rested for a moment in that of Madame Recamier's pet and protegee, I am reminded, too, that I once saw, at the Forsters', in 1869, when I was eighteen, the Doctor Lushington who was Lady Byron's adviser and confidant when she left her husband, and who, as a young man, had stayed with Pitt and ridden out with Lady Hester Stanhope.
It was the latter who gravely announced to Captain Trapps, the Bathurst magistrate, the discovery of `precious stones' on his location; and which the angry gentleman, jealous of the reserved rights of Government, found, on further inquiry, were only `precious big ones! The rich valley of Lushington afforded a resting-place to Dyason's party.
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