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Updated: May 16, 2025
Now, when he already half repented of the violence with which he had profaned the house of his friend, his eyes fell upon Rainham, and he felt abashed before the expression of pain which he had called into the other's face. "I don't know what all this means," said Rainham wearily, turning from Oswyn to Dick as he spoke; "but surely it is all wrong? Be quiet, Dick; you needn't say anything.
Then, apparently reassured, he resigned himself again to listen, with a cigarette unlighted between his fingers. "You say Oswyn heard the whole story?" he asked, when Rainham had finished. "Did the girl seem to know him? Or did he seem to have heard of this Crichton before?"
Furnival; "they appear to be from a lady. Yes, I don't think you need read them." "And these," continued Oswyn. "They are all from Lady Garnett, and it is extremely unlikely that they can have any business reference." "That disposes of nearly all," said the lawyer cheerfully. "I may put them on the fire, then?" Oswyn bowed a grave assent, and Mr.
Only, unfortunately, he happens to be inextricably entangled with all that is most sacred, most important to me. It is of his wife Mrs. Lightmark: do you know her? that I think." Oswyn shook his head. "I know her only by sight, as we all do; she is very beautiful." "I don't mind telling you that I have considered her a great deal yes, immensely.
Almost as he spoke there was a step on the stair, followed by a boisterous knock at the door, and Dick entered effusively. "Well, mon vieux, how goes it? Why, you're all in the dark! They didn't tell me you were engaged.... Oh, is that you, Oswyn? How do you do?" "Quite an unexpected pleasure?" suggested Oswyn sardonically, nodding over his shoulder at the new-comer from his seat by the fire.
"As you like to look at it," echoed the other; "a mare's nest a discovery of the blessed public oh, but a discovery! Two or three clever young newspaper men, with a tip from Paris to help them, have made a discovery; they have unearthed a disreputable painting genius, one Oswyn, and found the inevitable Jew of culture you know the type, all nose and shekels to finance their boom. Oh, it's genuine!
But, of course, Dick had a perfect right to finish and exhibit his picture, even if he knew that Oswyn was thinking of the same thing." McAllister assented hastily. "No doubt, no doubt; though Oswyn was just wild about it you know his uncivilized ways and I must admit I was a bit astonished myself, at first, when I saw the picture at Burlington House with Lightmark's signature to it.
If Oswyn is accusing you of plagiarism, of stealing his ideas, I can't believe it. I can't believe you meant to wrong him. The same thing must have occurred to both of you. Why, Oswyn, surely you see that? You have both been painting here, and you were both struck in the same way. Nothing could be simpler."
The yard door swung noisily on its hinges, and a light step and voice became audible, and the sound of familiar conference with the dockman. Rainham lifted his head inquiringly, and Oswyn, shrugging his shoulders, left the window and regained his seat, picking up his sketch on the way. "Yes," he said in answer to a more direct inquiry on the other's part, "I think it was Lightmark."
"I can't go back to him," she whispered, as if she communed with herself. "I hate him; yes, I hate him, with my whole soul. He has lied to me too much; he has made me do such a cruel wrong. There are things which one can't forgive. Ah, no! it's not possible." Oswyn viewed her compassionately, while a somewhat bitter smile played about his mouth. "No, you will go back, Mrs. Lightmark!
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