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Updated: May 29, 2025
And, with a grin, Hervey turned on his heel, and, passing up the steps, walked away towards the barn. Prudence waited until her brother had disappeared within the stables; then she locked up. As she turned from the door she heard her mother's voice calling. "Girl girl, where are you?" "Here I am, mother dear, at the creamery." Mrs. Malling trundled round the corner of the house.
I used to meet him sometimes with some friends of mine, the Crespignys. But I haven't seen him for more than two years." "He's a very good fellow." "An excellent fellow." "Perhaps a little bit limited in his outlook. He has been with me at St. Joseph's exactly two years." The rector seemed about to say more, then shut his large mouth almost with a snap. Malling made no remark.
Harding's confidence, his self-abasement, and his almost despairing appeal, had surely given Malling certain rights. He intended to use them to the full. The rector's abrupt relapse into reserve, his pitiful return to subterfuge, after the receipt of that hypnotizing telegram, had not, in Malling's view, abrogated those rights.
When the three men came to the turning at the corner of the Grosvenor Hotel, Chichester stopped short. "Here is our way," he said, speaking across Mr. Harding to Malling. The rector looked at Malling. "Have you far to go?" he asked, with rather a tentative air. "I live in Cadogan Square." "Of course. I remember. You told us you were going there." "Good-by," said Chichester.
She saw a hulk drifting at the mercy of the waves that, perhaps, would soon engulf it. But she was not only despairing, she was raging too. For she was a woman with nervous force in her, and it is force that rages in the moments of despair, seeking, perhaps unconsciously, some means of action and finding none. "Why should there not be some hope?" asked Malling, quietly. "To-morrow is Sunday.
And the matter became the more mysterious when Malling considered Mr. Harding. For here was a man obviously of dominant personality. Despite his fleeting subservience to Chichester, inexplicable to Malling, he was surely by far the stronger of the two, both in intellect and character. Not so saintly, perhaps, he was more likely to influence others.
"Do you find him much changed?" Malling shrugged his shoulders. "Possibly a little. He may have become rather firmer in manner, a trifle more decisive." "Firmer! More decisive, you say!" "But surely that is only natural, working as he has done, I understand, under a man such as yourself for two years." "Such as myself! Then you think he's caught something of my manner and way of looking at things?
"Forgive me." The lady smiled, her lips moved, doubtless in some words of conventional acceptance, then she disappeared in the throng, taking her way toward the left of the church. She was a slim woman, with a white streak in her dark hair just above the forehead. Her face, which was refined and handsome, had given to Malling a strong impression of anxiety.
His blue eyes seemed to be seeking something in Malling's impenetrable face. "Do you think," he said, "I am much altered since we used to meet two years ago? It would of course be natural enough if I were." Malling looked at him for a minute steadily. "In appearance, you mean?" "Of course." "To-night it seems to me that you have altered a good deal."
But it seemed to Malling that he held them rather because of his reputation, because of what they confidently expected of him, because of what he had done in the past, than because of what he was actually doing. And presently they slipped out of his grasp. He lost them.
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