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Updated: June 10, 2025
Phyllis whispered in his ear: "Guardy, do look; he will stare at me like that. Isn't it awful like a boiled rabbit?" Bob Pillin, attentive to Mrs. Larne, was gazing with all his might over her shoulder at the girl. The young man was moonstruck, that was clear! There was something almost touching in the stare of those puppy dog's eyes.
The Madeira having done its work by turning the conversation into such an admirable channel, he had cut it short for fear young Pillin might drink the lot or get wind of the rat. And when his guests were gone, and his family had retired, he stood staring into the fire, putting together the pieces of the puzzle. Five or six thousand pounds six would be ten per cent. on sixty! Exactly!
Pillin, sir; and will you wait lunch, or will you have it in the dining-room?" "In the dining-room." At sight of that death's-head of a fellow, old Heythorp felt a sort of pity. He looked bad enough already and this news would make him look worse. Joe Pillin glanced round at the two closed doors. "How are you, Sylvanus? I'm very poorly."
Bob Pillin took it out in desperation, and, sitting down at the bureau, wrote a cheque similar to that which he had torn and burned. A warm kiss lighted on his eyebrow, his head was pressed for a moment to a furry bosom; a hand took the cheque; a voice said: "How delightful!" and a sigh immersed him in a bath of perfume.
Phyllis jumped up. "Oh! Lawks! Here's mother!" Mrs. Larne was coming up the garden. Bob Pillin made for the door. "Good-bye," he said; "I'm going." But Mrs. Larne was already in the hall. Enveloping him in fur and her rich personality, she drew him with her into the drawing-room, where the back window was open and Phyllis gone.
Bob Pillin had of late been harassed by the still-born beginning of a poem: "I rode upon my way and saw A maid who watched me from the door." It never grew longer, and was prompted by the feeling that her face was like an April day. The cloud which came on it now was like an April cloud, as if a bright shower of rain must follow.
Then his smile died, and with a little chill he perceived that it was all based on supposition not quite good enough to go on! What then? Somehow he must see this Mrs. Larne, or better old Pillin himself. The point to ascertain was whether she had any connection of her own with Pillin. Clearly young Pillin didn't know of it; for, according to him, old Heythorp had made the settlement. By Jove!
"Well, yes, there is. I've just been to see Mrs. Larne." Mr. Ventnor did not flinch. "Ah! Nice woman; pretty daughter, too!" And into those words he put a certain meaning. He never waited to be bullied. Bob Pillin felt the pressure of his blood increasing. "Look here, Ventnor," he said, "I want an explanation." "What of?" "Why, of your going there, and using my name, and God knows what." Mr.
Bob Pillin went hastening towards her; and following the young man with her chin, Mrs. Larne said, smiling: "Aren't those children awful? He's such a nice fellow. We like him so much, Guardy." The old man grinned. So she was making up to that young pup! Rosamund Larne, watching him, murmured: "Oh! Guardy, you're as bad as Jock. He takes after you terribly. Look at the shape of his head.
Ventnor backed towards the door and passed away just in time to avoid hearing in two voices: "What a nice lawyer!" "What a horrid man!" Back in his cab, he continued to rub his hands. No, she didn't know old Pillin! That was certain; not from her words, but from her face. She wanted to know him, or about him, anyway. She was trying to hook young Bob for that sprig of a girl it was clear as mud.
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