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Updated: May 15, 2025
So said the tall and gentle-voiced housekeeper, Mrs. Bird, whose emotions had been, in Miss Marvell's view, so unnecessarily exercised on the evening of Delia's home-coming. Being a sensitive person, Mrs. Bird had already learnt her lesson, and her manner had now become as mildly distant as could be desired, especially in the case of Miss Blanchflower's lady companion. "People?
I remember the time he invented his Goliath Glue he sat up all night over the Bible to get the name... No, father didn't start IN as a druggist," she went on, expanding with the signs of Marvell's interest; "he was educated for an undertaker, and built up a first-class business; but he was always a beautiful speaker, and after a while he sorter drifted into the ministry.
Moffatt was away, and when he came back a few days later he answered Ralph's enquiries evasively, with an edge of irritation in his voice. The same day Ralph received a letter from his lawyer, who had been reminded by Mrs. Marvell's representatives that the latest date agreed on for the execution of the financial agreement was the end of the following week.
She re-appeared, radiant in a moleskin cap and furs, and then they both awkwardly remembered he, that he had made no inquiry about Weston, and she, that she had said nothing of Gertrude Marvell's hurried departure. "Your poor maid? Tell me about her. Oh, but she'll do well. We'll take care of her. France is an awfully good doctor." Her eyes thanked him.
It shewed two series of rooms, divided by a long passage. One of the rooms was marked "Red Parlour," another, "Hall," and at the end of the passage, there were some words, clearly in Gertrude Marvell's handwriting "Garden door, north." With terror in her heart, Delia brought the fragment to the lamp, and examined every word and line of it. Recollections flashed into her mind, and turned her pale.
During the first week of Gertrude Marvell's recovery or partial recovery from her prison ordeal, both Winnington and Delia realised the truth of this commonplace to the full. Winnington was excluded from the flat. Delia, imprisoned within it, was dragged, day by day, through deep waters of emotion and pity.
We were all in each other's way. So yesterday, by Miss Marvell's instructions, some of us migrated here. We are only two streets from the central." "Excellent!" said Winnington. "But it might perhaps have been well to inform Miss Blanchflower." The flushed babyish face under the fashionable hat looked at him askance. Lady Fanny's tone changed took a sharpened edge.
Her face was paler and softer than usual, and the eyes she rested on Marvell's face looked deep and starry under their fixed brows. "Oh you're not going?" he exclaimed. "I thought you weren't coming," she answered simply. "I waited till now on purpose to dodge your other visitors." She laughed with pleasure. "Oh, we hadn't so many!"
Her gloom was not lightened by finding Ralph Marvell's card on the drawing-room table. She thought it unflattering and almost impolite of him to call without making an appointment: it seemed to show that he did not wish to continue their acquaintance. But as she tossed the card aside her mother said: "He was real sorry not to see you. Undine he sat here nearly an hour."
His fancy has the enchantment of Huon's horn, and sets the gravest conceptions a-capering in a way that makes us laugh in spite of ourselves. Andrew Marvell's satire upon the Dutch is a capital instance of wit as distinguished from fun.
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