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Updated: June 2, 2025
"What a good fellow you are, Vic! You've made a new man of me. I can pay off those cursed gambling losses, and a couple of the most pressing debts, and have nearly a hundred pounds over. But I wish I had taken that ruby bracelet for Flora it would have pleased her." "Cut Flora that's my advice," replied Nevill. "And jolly good advice, too, Vic. I'll think about it seriously.
It would be better that they two should set to work together, even though it might mean a delay of a few minutes in the beginning. He put Victoria's letter in his pocket, meaning to show it to Nevill as the quickest way of explaining what had happened and what he wanted to do; but before he had got to his friend's door, he knew that he could not bear to show the letter.
He was packing up his things about noon, when Molly staggered into his dressing-room with her teeth chattering. Clinging to the rail of the bedstead for support, she gazed at the preparations for his departure. "I wish you wouldn't go away, Nevill," she said. "It's all right, I'll be back in a day or two." He blushed at his own lie. Mrs. Nevill Tyson sat down on the bed and began to cry.
The best stood in pairs, with a walled yard between; and as Stephen and Nevill searched anxiously for some one to point out the home of Mouni, from over a wall which seemed to be running down the mountain-side, came a white puff of smoke and a strident bang, then more, one after the other. Again the wailing of the raïta began, and there was no longer any need to ask the way.
He held his turbaned head proudly, and, glancing at Caird as he passed, seemed not to see him, but rather to see through him something more interesting beyond. Nevill still waited for his friend, but fully two minutes had gone before Stephen appeared. "Did you see that fellow in the red cloak?" he asked. "That was the Arab of the ship." "Si Maïeddine " "Yes.
They had not made a hurried march from the desert city, for Stephen and Sabine had calculated the hour at which Nevill might have received the summons, and the time he would take on the return journey. It was possible, Lady MacGregor being what she was, that she might have rewired the telegram to a certain bordj, the only telegraph station between Touggourt and Oued Tolga.
Strathfieldsaye may have been in old days the scene of many political incidents. The latest was one at which I myself was present. The heroine of it was Miss Meresia Nevill, Lady Dorothy's daughter, who afterward achieved renown as a luminary of the Primrose League. She was then in her novitiate only, and the duke one morning whispered to her that he would give her a lesson in oratory.
Nevill sat down and lighted a cigar; he thoughtfully watched the smoke curl up. "I suppose I could get a divorce?" Jack asked, savagely. "No doubt of it, but " "But you wouldn't advise me to do it. No, you're right. I couldn't stand the publicity and disgrace." "I would like to choke her," muttered Jimmie. "I had a talk with her on the way to town," said Nevill.
So, back again to black tunnels, where the blind walls heard secrets they would never tell. The houses had no eyes, and the street doors drew back into shadow. "Do you wonder now," Nevill asked, "that it's difficult to find out what goes on in an Arab's household?" "No," said Stephen. "I feel half stifled. It's wonderful, but somehow terrible.
"Surely she must love you, at least a little, if you care so much for her," Stephen tried to console his friend. "Oh, she does, a lot," replied Nevill with infinite satisfaction. "But, you see well, you see, her family wasn't up to much from a social point of view such rot! The mother came out from Paris to be a nursery governess, when she was quite young, but she was too pretty for that position.
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