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Updated: June 13, 2025
At all events, they were now covered with a wild tangle of water lilies and aquatic plants; well stocked with magnificent fish, and an occasional scaly monster of a saurian. They were the haunt of vast quantities of widgeon, teal, whistlers, mallard, ducks, snipe, curlew, blue fowl, and the usual varied habitués of an exceptionally good Indian lake.
"If we can make Barre before it storms," said Captain Mallard. "There is a good harbor, and a fierce east wind would drive us back to the other side." They fortunately made Barre before the storm broke in all its fierceness, but it was terrible! There was a roar over the lake as if a drove of bisons were tearing madly about.
"Oh, it isn't quite so bad with me as all that," replied Elgar, as if he slightly resented this interference with his private affairs. Yet he had yesterday, in the flow of his good-humour, all but confessed that it was high time he looked out for an income. Mallard examined him askance.
At the time he had mentioned; Mallard walked about his room in impatience. Just before three o'clock, his ear caught a footstep outside, and a knock at the door followed. "Come in!" he shouted. From behind the canvases appeared Miriam. "Ah! How do you do? This is kind of you. Are you alone?" The question was so indifferently asked, that Miriam stood in embarrassment. "Yes.
Mrs. Trappème at once became most affable. She had noticed that the purse the girl had produced was literally stuffed with new £5 notes. "May I send for it?" she said beamingly, "and will you not stay and go to your room now?" "No, thank you," was the cold reply, "I have some business to attend to first. Can you tell me where Mr. Mallard, the editor of the Champion, lives?
And whilst they stood here, there came by a young priest, holding open a missal or breviary or some such book, and muttering from it, as if learning by heart. Cecily followed him with her gaze. "What a place for study of that kind!" she exclaimed, looking at Mallard. He also had felt the incongruity, and laughed. Two or three chambers of the Vatican sufficed for one day.
These three men accompanied him to the home of the editor, where they dined together; and when the dinner was ended an automobile bore the party through a heavy snowstorm to the hall where Mallard was to speak. That is to say, it bore the party to within a block and a half of the hall.
He found Mallard's door, and was beginning to ascend the stairs, when the artist himself appeared at the top of them, on the point of going out. He recognized his visitor with a grim movement of brows and lips, and without speaking turned back. Reuben reached the door, which remained open, and entered. Mallard, who stood there in the ante-room, looked at him inquiringly.
"There never was a time, I guess, when the reputable press of this country was so united in its campaign to kill off a man as it is now in its campaign to kill off Mallard. No paper gives him countenance, except some of these foreign-language rags and these dirty little disloyal sheets; and until here just lately even they didn't dare to come out in the open and applaud him.
MACKESY. Nonsense. That business was knocked on the head last season. Why, young Mallard ANTHONY. Mallard was a candlestick, paraded as such. Think awhile. Recollect last season and the talk then. Mallard or no Mallard, did Gaddy ever talk to any other woman? CURTISS. There's something in that. It was slightly noticeable now you come to mention it. But she's at Naini Tal and he's at Simla.
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