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Hunting was a keen enjoyment one outlet for wild life in him and at the last meet of the year he rode in Captain Maudsley's place. They had a good run, and the taste of it remained with Gaston for many a day; he thought of it sometimes as he rode in the Park now every morning with Delia and her mother. Gaston had a bad moment when he told Jacques that he need not come with him again.
Then she read Sir William Belward's letter, and afterwards Captain Maudsley's. "It has all come at once," she said: "the girl and these! What will you do? Give 'the woman' up for the honour of the Master of the Hounds?" The tone was bitter, exasperating. Gaston was patient. "What do you think, Andree?" "It has only begun," she said. "Wait, King of Ys. Read that other letter."
The woman looked at him steadily. "You won't be," she replied, this time seriously, and in a very low voice. "No? Why?" "Because you will tire of it all though you've started very well." She then answered a question of Captain Maudsley's and turned again to Gaston. "What will make me tire of it?" he inquired. She sipped her champagne musingly.
The books came down in two days: Herbert Spencer's First Principles, the Principles of Biology, the Principles of Psychology; Haeckel's History of Evolution; Maudsley's Body and Mind, Physiology and Pathology of Mind, Responsibility in Mental Disease; and Ribot's Heredity. Your instinct told you to read them in that order, controlling personal curiosity.
Hunting was a keen enjoyment one outlet for wild life in him and at the last meet of the year he rode in Captain Maudsley's place. They had a good run, and the taste of it remained with Gaston for many a day; he thought of it sometimes as he rode in the Park now every morning with Delia and her mother. Gaston had a bad moment when he told Jacques that he need not come with him again.
In such cases there is neither celestial illumination nor diabolic communion, neither to use Maudsley's phrase theolepsy nor diabolepsy, only psycholepsy. In the present chapter we have been striving to apply this principle to a little wider field than is usual.
Then she read Sir William Belward's letter, and afterwards Captain Maudsley's. "It has all come at once," she said: "the girl and these! What will you do? Give 'the woman' up for the honour of the Master of the Hounds?" The tone was bitter, exasperating. Gaston was patient. "What do you think, Andree?" "It has only begun," she said. "Wait, King of Ys. Read that other letter."
The woman looked at him steadily. "You won't be," she replied, this time seriously, and in a very low voice. "No? Why?" "Because you will tire of it all though you've started very well." She then answered a question of Captain Maudsley's and turned again to Gaston. "What will make me tire of it?" he inquired. She sipped her champagne musingly.
Emerson disposes of Swedenborg's ideal marriage as it exists in heaven, as "merely an indefinite bridal-chamber," and intimates that it is the dream of one who had never been disillusioned by experience. In Maudsley's fine book, "Body and Mind," the statement is made that during Swedenborg's stay in London his life was decidedly promiscuous.
If I cared for Mr. Sutcliffe I wouldn't mind his growing tired and old. The tireder and older he was the more I'd care." Somehow you couldn't imagine Lindley Vickers growing old and tired. She gave him back the books: Ribot's Heredity and Maudsley's Physiology and Pathology of Mind. He held them in his long, thin hands, reading the titles.
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