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Updated: June 28, 2025
He had sent for Tatsu, and, at the appearance of the Japanese servant, Robert whispered a word or two to him and he left the room. Just as he did so Hayden felt a slight pressure on his arm. Turning, he met Marcia's eyes. Her gaze was fastened on him with a frightened, almost imploring expression and he saw that she had again grown very pale. "What is it?" he said to her in a low voice.
"I am aware that I have not the graces of youth and comeliness, and for various reasons your family might oppose. But I am not a poor man, and I think if a woman loved me I want her to love me," he says, with sudden vehemence that looks like passion. "I want her to adore me, I want to know what it is to be loved in spite of my drawbacks!" He has touched the right chord in Marcia's nature.
They were bent on carrying him to Briar Hills, he knew that much now, and that he had no power to stop them. The violence of his exercise, he said, had cleared the chaos from his brain and only the vision of the red automobile remained, Marcia's roadster. He knew it well. Had he not driven it? There was no mistake.
Of course John had come before we reached home, and of course he had been all day fuming over the papers, as if that would do any good; but I had drunk too deep of the intoxicating air to be disturbed by his surprised look when Mr. Hynes and I entered the library; can't I go without his guarding even to Aunt Marcia's?
I suppose she won't have me for her secretary any more." Marcia's face wore an expression of complete resignation. She had been a party to a dishonorable act, and her reaping promised to be bitter indeed. "It means a whole lot to you to be secretary, doesn't it, Marcia?" asked Marjorie, slowly. "Yes. This is my third year. I've been saving the money to go to college.
The wonder was that she had ever forgotten how she had seen her dancing at the Hippodrome on her four horses as no girl ever had danced or forgotten the story about her that she had said was "queer"! If Marcia's eyes had fallen on the signature mine were on now, I knew her first act would have been to write to Jimmy Van Ruyne; that even if she had only heard Dudley defending an ostensibly absent Valenka she would have written for Marcia was no fool.
She addressed Newbury, and before he knew what had happened, the chairs had been so manipulated that Lester sat between Marcia and Newbury, while Waggin had drawn back into the shadow. The eyes of Marcia's duenna twinkled.
"It all hinged," Agathemer explained, "on the fact that Furfur was insanely in love with Marcia, that Marcia hated and loathed him and that Commodus realized how each felt to the other. He was so sure of Marcia's detestation of Furfur that he was never jealous of him, so sure of Furfur's complete subserviency to Marcia that he never feared betrayal by him.
Besides, Marcia loves me, and it's pleasant to be loved!" Poor Lord Algy. He certainly thought there could be no question about Marcia's affection for him.
Be a cheerful little girl, and you shall have her afterward." Cecil knows that tone means obedience. She is not exactly cheerful, but neither is she cross. They drive in Marcia's pony phaeton. "Nothing in the world is too good for us," Mrs. Grandon says, with a sneer. "There will be open war between her and Marcia."
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