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Updated: June 13, 2025
I hate a fellow who tries to be more than friendly, and I dreaded making the experiment. I did venture to point out to him that there might be some way of annulling the Parflete marriage. But idealists abhor law-suits. Parflete, not being an idealist, may take some steps on his own account. I refrained from touching on that possibility, although I see much hope that way for our unhappy lovers.
Parflete.... She reached Orange's door; Dunton tapped; Orange came out; the lady and he exchanged glances; they entered the room together, and he closed the door. Three-quarters of an hour later they came down the stairs and left the house." "You followed them?" "Alas! I couldn't. I was not alone. Parflete himself was with me. I dared not trust him out of my sight.
They say she is an angel." "You will find that she would far rather be an Archduchess! Orange may discover that his Beatrice is nearly related to Rahab!" "Oh, I cannot think you are right." "Then you should hear Zeuill and General Prim on the subject. The Marquis of Castrillon is in London. Our friend Parflete will soon be labouring with copious materials for a divorce."
He decided to put his own troubles aside, and, out of mere decency, concentrate his thoughts on the severe trial in store for Orange. "This business about Parflete," said he, "is a great blow. One becomes indifferent to what is said of, or done to, one's self; but that all this uncommon, saddening, sickening trouble should come upon Robert is too bad.
It's the sort of thing one hardly dares to think. That is to say if you mean what I mean. The marriage can't be legal." The two women turned pale and looked away from each other. "I mean as much or as little as you like," said Harding. "But Parflete was alive last Monday." "But bigamy is so vulgar," observed Lord Garrow. "You must be mistaken. It is too dreadful!" "Dreadful, indeed!
"The corruption of egoism and the insatiable love of pleasure" had done its worst to a character never striking for its energy. He would "desert" his wife again if she would give him a sufficient sum. Mrs. Parflete, Disraeli pointed out, was the last woman on earth to agree to such terms.
Father Foster was in the library with Lady Fitz Rewes. Would Mrs. Parflete see him? She went down, and Pensée stood watching for her at the open door. "My poor child!" she said, with a sob in her voice, as she drew Brigit into the room. "My poor child," she repeated, "Father Foster has come to tell us that that Mr. Parflete died last night."
We have at least sufficient evidence to institute divorce proceedings. If Parflete will not file a petition " "You can do nothing. Unless you can be perfectly sure that he will follow some reasonable course, he ought to be saved from himself." "Yes, he ought to be saved from himself. Something in my nature makes me follow a certain kind of man as hounds track game.
Perhaps her ladyship felt the situation the more keenly, because, much as she loved Mrs. Parflete, she could not bring herself to think that she was the wife for Robert. She had spent many weeks refusing admittance to this thought, yet prudence was prudence, and, by virtue of its stability, it prevailed. The union, even viewed in the most favourable light, had always seemed imprudent.
I don't wish to injure the lady, but on account of eventualities which might arise, I am obliged to look a little about me." "I understand," said Sara. "The great point is not to let Parflete take the lead in the settlement. His present course of action isn't quite decent or consistent. Will Orange do nothing?
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