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Updated: June 14, 2025
But the memory of his card losses frightened him, and he stopped on the way to see what money Austin would advance him. Julius Neergard came up from Long Island, arriving at the office about noon.
There was a wheel, too. . . . I had no intention but you know yourself how it parches your throat the jollying and laughing and excitement. . . . I forgot all about what you what we talked over. . . . I'm ashamed and sorry; but I can stay here and attend to things, of course " "I don't want Neergard to see you," repeated Selwyn. "W-why," stammered the boy, "do I look as rocky as that?" "Yes.
"I'll let you know when I see you here to-morrow," said the boy; but Selwyn shook his head: "I'm not coming here to-morrow, Gerald"; and he walked leisurely into Neergard's office and seated himself. "So you have committed the firm to the Siowitha deal?" he inquired coolly. Neergard looked up and then past him: "No, not the firm.
For a moment he looked at her looked at Gerald beside her, and Neergard on the other side, and Rosamund opposite; and at the others, whom he had never before seen. Then quietly, but with heightened colour, he turned his attention to the glass which the servant had just filled for him, and, resting his hand on the stem, stared at the bubbles crowding upward through it to the foamy brim.
"The prettiest of American duchesses takes her over next spring; and Heaven knows the household cavalry needs green forage . . . Besides, even Jack Ruthven may stand the chance they say he stands if it is true he has made up his mind to sue for his divorce." Neergard wheeled on her; the sweat on his nose had become a bright bead. "Where did you hear that?" he asked. "What? About Jack Ruthven?"
But he had not counted on Neergard's sudden hatred of Gerald; and the first token of that hatred fell upon the boy like a thunderbolt when Neergard whispered to Ruthven, one night at the Stuyvesant Club, and Ruthven, exasperated, had gone straight home, to find his wife in tears, and the boy clumsily attempting to comfort her, both her hands in his.
Eternal vigilance was the price; not the cancelled vouchers of the servitude of dead years and the half-servile challenge of the strange new days when his vanity had dared him to live. Rosamund, smoothly groomed, golden-headed, and smiling, rose as Neergard moved slowly forward to take his leave.
"Really," observed Ruthven, staring at the seated man, "I scarcely understand your remark." "Well, you'll understand it perhaps when I choose to explain it," said Neergard. "I see there's some trouble somewhere. What is it? What's the matter with Orchil, and that hatchet-faced beagle-pup, Mottly? Is there anything the matter, Jack?"
Selwyn reflected: "I believe I'd go and see Neergard if I were perfectly sure of my personal sentiments toward him. . . . He's been civil enough to me, of course, but I have always had a curious feeling about Neergard that he's for ever on the edge of doing something doubtful " "His business reputation is all right. He shaves the dead line like a safety razor, but he's never yet cut through it.
No; Austin must be left out; there were three things to do: One of them was to pay Neergard; another to sever Gerald's connection with him for ever; and the third thing to be done was something which did not concern Gerald or Austin perhaps, not even Ruthven. It was to be done, no matter what the cost. But the thought of the cost sent a shiver over him, and left his careworn face gray.
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