Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: May 20, 2025
"You don't have to urge me to protect Charity," he said. "She's an angel as well as my client. All you need is a little sleep. Go to bed and don't worry. Remember, there never was a storm so big that it didn't blow over." "Yes, but what does it blow over before it blows over?" said Jim. "You're talking in your sleep already. Good night," said McNiven.
He might have sent Kedzie to the realm where there is neither marrying nor giving in marriage which should save a heap of trouble. Jim fancied that Kedzie must have taken the train to New York, since she spoke of sending her lawyer to McNiven. It did not occur to him that she could find a New York lawyer in Newport. He met Charity, and not Kedzie, on the train. That made bad look worse.
McNiven was waiting in the office of the clerk, and as soon as he learned that the judge had granted the motion he submitted the formal orders to be signed. The clerk entered the interlocutory decree. And now the marriage was ended except for three months of grace.
She had no desire left except to disentangle herself from Peter Cheever's life as quietly and swiftly as possible. She told McNiven this and said: "How quickly can the ghastly job be finished?" "Theoretically it could be done in a day, but practically it takes a little longer. For we must avoid the look of collusion like the plague. So we'll allow, say, a week.
Her first question was: "Who is this unknown woman going by the name of Sarah Tishler? I thought Miss L'Etoile was to be the only woman mentioned." McNiven explained: "L'Etoile is her stage name. She doesn't know her real name herself, for she was taken from the foundling-asylum as a child by a family named Tishler. We have taken advantage of that disadvantage."
She was perilously near to resolving that she had been a fool not to have taken happiness, physical happiness, first. A grand red passion seemed so much more beautiful than a petty blue asceticism. When she got home from the will-making session with McNiven she began to go over her papers and close the books of her years.
McNiven is your lawyer still, I suppose. I'll send my lawyer to him. Come along, mother and father." She led her little cohort down-stairs and bade Skip a very cordial au revoir. The Dyckman divorce farce might have been as politely performed as l'affaire Cheever or even more so than that, since practice makes perfect.
The deed that he would once have cursed his wife for stooping to, perhaps have beaten her for, was now an occasion for overwhelming her with thanks. He hurried away to his lawyer, and Charity telephoned McNiven for another appointment the next afternoon. Jim Dyckman's appointment was for the next morning.
When Jim reached his office the next morning McNiven recommended the view to him, gave him a chair, refused a cigar, lighted his pipe instead, opened a drawer in his desk, put his feet in it, and leaned far back in his swivel chair. Jim began, "Well, you see, Sandy, it's like this " "One moment," McNiven broke in.
Charity bowed to this, but she protested the income credited to her husband. "Peter doesn't earn half as much as that." "How do you know what he earns?" said McNiven. "He's told me often enough." "Do you believe all he told you?" "No; but, anyway, I don't want any of his old alimony. I have money enough of my own."
Word Of The Day
Others Looking