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Updated: May 16, 2025
"Come, Mr. Verrian," Miss Macroyd resumed, "what is the secret? I'll never tell if you tell me." "You won't if I don't." "Now you are becoming merely trivial. You are ceasing even to be provoking." Miss Macroyd, in token of her displeasure, laughed no longer. "Am I?" he questioned; thoughtfully. "Well, then, I am tempted to act upon impulse." "Oh, do act upon impulse for once," she urged.
He owned that it was in Boston. "Oh, that excuses it, then," Miss Macroyd said. But she lost the laugh which was her due in the rush which some of the others made to open a window and see whether it could be made to snow in-doors there. "Oh, it isn't crowded enough here," the young man explained who had alleged the scientific marvel.
She must have liked your looks!" Again Miss Macroyd laughed. "On that side I'm invulnerable. It's only a literary vanity to be soothed or to be wounded that I have," Verrian said. "Oh, there wouldn't be anything personal in her liking your looks.
At Southfield, where they all descended, Miss Macroyd promptly possessed herself of a groom, who came forward tentatively, touching his hat. "Miss Macroyd?" she suggested. "Yes, miss," the man said, and led the way round the station to the victoria which, when Miss Macroyd's maid had mounted to the place beside her, had no room; for any one else.
Miss Macroyd came out with her laugh. "I should like to know what she makes of you, Mr. Verrian, when she is alone with herself. She must have looked you up and authenticated you in her own way, but it would be as far from your way as well, say the Milky Way." "You don't think she asked me because she met me at your house?" "No, that wouldn't be enough, from her point of view.
The men pretended that this was what might have been expected from the beginning, but by this time the Berserker madness had possessed Miss Macroyd, too; she left her throne of snow and came forward shouting that it had been perfectly fair, and that the men had been really beaten, and they had no right to pretend that they had given themselves up purposely.
Was it because the bent of Miss Shirley was so academic that she was periling upon tomboyishness without knowing it in this primal inspiration of hers? Inwardly he resented the word academic, although outwardly he had assented to it when Miss Macroyd proposed it.
Here there are no chances of that kind; the chances are that you'll wish the ghost had not been entreated: I think that is the phrase." In the laugh that followed a girl on Miss Macroyd's other hand audibly asked her, "Oh, isn't he too funny?" "Delicious!" Miss Macroyd agreed. Verrian felt she said it to vex him. "Now, there's just one other point," Bushwick resumed, "and then I have done.
But he refused, partly because he did not care about being paired off with Miss Macroyd so conspicuously, and partly because he wished to help the fight along.
It was not for him now to undo all that and begin the laughing at the affair, which she had pathetically intimated that she would rather some one else should begin. He recoiled from his imprudence with a shock, but he had the pleasure of having mystified Miss Macroyd.
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