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Updated: May 5, 2025
So the discourse will run; and, when it touches upon John Gilbert, what else than this will be its burden? that he was perfection as the old fop; that his Lord Ogleby had no peer; that he was the oddest conceivable compound of dry humour, quaint manners, frolicsome love of mischief, honest, hearty mirth, manly dignity, and tender pathos. To Mark Smith it will render a kindred tribute.
Except for her shadowing of Mrs. Ogleby, Clare Kendall had devoted her time to winning the confidence of the poor girl, Sybil Seymour, whom we had rescued from Margot's. Meanwhile, the estrangement of Carton and Margaret Ashton threw a cloud over even our success. During the rest of the morning Craig was at work again in the laboratory.
I had begun to like the man, and there might have been a secret sympathy between us, as one day it was to be my fate also to write myself, author. Having adjusted ourselves into the most comfortable attitudes that we could assume, I began, as Lord Ogleby hath it, "with good emphasis, and good discretion," to read the "Tour up and down the Rio de la Plate."
Whatever his purpose, it likewise enabled us to keep an ear on him, and it was with surprise which both Kennedy and I had great difficulty in concealing, that we heard him reply, "Hello yes oh, Mrs. Ogleby, good-morning. How are you? That's good. So you, too, read the papers. No, I haven't lost anything of importance, thank you. Nothing serious, you know.
He had heard the commotion, and, seeing ladies, came to the conclusion that it was not a police plainclothes raid, but some new game of the reformers. He stopped short in amazement at the sight of Dorgan and Ogleby. "Well I'll be " "Carton! Walter!" shouted Kennedy. "Take care of him. Watch out for a knife or gun. He's soft, though. Carton the whistle!"
But a photograph has come into my possession in which Mr. Carton is represented as standing in a group on a porch, with Mr. Murtha, Mrs. Ogleby, and an unknown woman. The first three are in poses that show the utmost friendliness. I do not hesitate to say that was originally a photograph of yourself, Mr. Murtha, Mrs. Ogleby, and a woman whom you know well.
The music became wilder and they threw themselves into the abandon of the dance. They had been absorbed so much in each other and the unburdening of whatever it was she had wanted to tell him, that neither had noticed the other couple on the other side of the floor whose presence had divided our own attention. Martin Ogleby and his partner were not dancing.
What more natural than to use the dope fiends and the degenerates of the Montmartre gang?" "That's silly," interrupted Ogleby contemptuously. "Silly? You can say that you, the tool of that that monster?" It was a woman's voice that interrupted. I turned. Sybil Seymour, her face blazing with resentment, had risen and was facing Ogleby squarely.
He placed a sarcastic emphasis on the word "professor," as the two men faced each other Craig tall, clean-cut, earnest; Ogleby polished, smooth, keen. "Very well," replied Craig with that steel-trap snap of his jaws which I knew boded ill for someone. "It is not necessary for me to repeat what has happened at the Montmartre and the beauty parlour adjoining it," began Kennedy deliberately.
And so, I contemplated the situation with more than ordinary interest. Dorgan wanted it in order to suppress and thus protect himself and Murtha. Mrs. Ogleby wanted it to save her good name and prevent even the appearance of scandal. Langhorne wanted it in order to coerce Dorgan to share in the graft, yet was afraid of Carton also. Was ever a situation of such peculiar, mixed motives?
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