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Updated: May 8, 2025
I recall that he remarked to Moira as he passed her that everything was going along swimmingly, and that if he had no further word during the next couple of days he would consider that it was quite safe to try his luck. I didn't understand what he meant, though he seemed to be referring in a general way to the late burglary, if burglary it could be called.
So, recognising that my first duty was to the living, I turned my attention to Moira. She had merely fainted, and one or two simple remedies brought her round very quickly. She opened her golden-brown eyes and looked up into mine. The unaccustomed horror of what she had just gone through had not yet died out of them; they held a plaintive, pleading look that somehow went straight to my heart.
Beryl turned her head suddenly and laid her cheek against the palm of her mother's hand. "Mother, I saw a lot of Tom Granger when I was in Paris." Mother Moira started ever so slightly, with the barest twitching of the hand Beryl's cheek touched. "He was very nice to me. Mother, are he and and Robin awfully good friends?" "What's in your heart, my girl?" "Mom, couldn't Robin marry almost anybody?
High over the heads of the hurrying humanity in a street of tenements Moira Lynch lighted her lamp and set it close to the bare window. With her it was a ceremony. She sang as she performed the little act.
"Thank you," was the polite response, and Polly descended the short flight of steps into the bricked area. The woman looked up expectantly. "I'm Polly May, of the hospital staff," the little girl announced modestly, "and Brida would like her kitten, please." The smile on Mrs. MacCarthy's face expanded into a big, joyous laugh. "Does she now? Moira! Katie! D'ye here that? Brida's sint f'r her cat!
If Moira had any lingering doubts as to the soundness of her sister-in-law's opinion they vanished before the welcome she had from the minister's wife. "Mr. Cameron's sister?" she cried, with both hands extended, "and just out from Scotland? And where from? From near Braemar? And our folk came from near Inverness. Mhail Gaelic heaibh?" "Go dearbh ha."
All, however, that I could get out of him was, that Lord Moira, the Governor of the Tower, had persuaded him to do so. From that moment Sir Francis Burdett lost the confidence of the people; he had deceived them, and they never placed implicit faith in him again.
I have not for these months been able to see her face clear, but do you know, Moira," here his voice fell and the mystic light grew in his eyes, "I saw her again just now as clear as clear, and I know I have got her again; and you, too, Moira, darling," here he gathered his sister to him, "and the people! and the Glen! Oh! is it not terrible what a crime can do?
True, Cameron had no means of getting inside the doctor's mind and therefore had no knowledge of the vision that came nightly to torment him in his dreams and the memory that came daily to haunt his waking hours; a vision and a memory of a trim little figure in a blue serge gown, of eyes brown, now sunny with laughing light, now soft with unshed tears, of hair that got itself into a most bewildering perplexity of waves and curls, of lips curving deliciously, of a voice with a wonderfully soft Highland accent; the vision and memory of Moira, Cameron's sister, as she had appeared to him in the Glen Cuagh Oir at her father's door.
Sir Francis Burdett, too, was just then entering into his noble career of patriotism; and, like the youthful servant of the temple in Euripides, was aiming his first shafts at those unclean birds, that settle within the sanctuary of the Constitution and sully its treasures: By a letter from the Earl of Moira to Col.
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