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Updated: June 19, 2025
But it did not occur to her, any more than it occurred to Majendie, to consider whether she herself were brilliant. She made a point of never refusing him her society. She had persuaded herself that she went with him for his own good. If he wanted to take long walks in the country, it was her duty as his wife to accompany him.
Poor Hannay had been conscious of her attitude conscious under her pure and austere eyes, of his own shortcomings, and it struck him that Majendie needed some defence against her judgment of his taste in friendship. When the door closed behind the Majendies, Mr. Gorst was left the last lingering guest. "Poor Wallie," said Mrs. Hannay. "Poor Wallie," said Mr. Hannay, and sighed.
"Yes, but it was very exhausting, dear, for me." "You? You didn't show much sign of exhaustion. I never heard you talk so well." "Did I talk well?" "Yes. Almost too well." "Too much, you mean. Well, I had to talk, when nobody else did. Besides, I did it for a purpose." But what his purpose was Majendie did not say.
The fourth year of his marriage found Majendie supremely miserable at home; and established, in his office, before a fair, wide prospect of financial prosperity. The office had become his home. He worked there early and late, with a dumb, indomitable industry. For the first time in his life Majendie was beginning to take an interest in his business.
Majendie dropped into the boat. Steve pushed off from the bank. Maggie stood there watching them go. She stood till the boat reached the creek's mouth, and Majendie turned, and raised his cap to her; stood till the white sail moved slowly up the river and disappeared, rounding the spit of land.
Anne Majendie had held her empire, and had made herself for ever desirable, by six years of systematic torturings and deceptions and denials, by all the infidelities of the saint in love with her own sanctity. The woman who was to bring him back now would have to borrow for a moment a little of Anne Majendie's spiritual splendour.
Overhead there was the delicate scent of green things and of sap, and underfoot the deep smell of moss and moistened earth. Anne drew the deep breath of delight. She took off her hat and gloves, and moved forward a few steps to a spot where the wood opened and the vivid light received her. Majendie hung back to look at her.
And Majendie became more and more absorbed in his business, and more and more he found his pleasure in it; in making money, that is to say, for the persons whom he loved. He had come even to find pleasure in making it for a person whom he did not love, and hardly knew.
They leapt now to her brother and his wife, and sank, fatigued with their effort. Two frail, nervous hands embraced Majendie's, till one of them let go, as she remembered Anne, and held her, too. Anne had been vexed, and Majendie angry with her; but anger and vexation could not live in sight of the pure, tremulous, eager soul of love that looked at them out of Edith's eyes.
I mean nothing offensive so far sir, but it behoves me to be careful, and behind those glasses, who can tell what demon lurks? Nay! No offence! An innocent man would feel no offence!" "Really, Miss Majendie!" begins the poor professor, who is as red as though he were the guiltiest soul alive. "Let me proceed, sir. We were talking of the ages of men." "We?" "Certainly!
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