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Updated: May 10, 2025
He's a nomad with the wild romance of the woodland bounding through him. I did think I'd score heavily with him." Diane discreetly ignored the inference. Whistling happily, Mr. Poynter poured the coffee and leaned back against a tree trunk. Watching him one might have read in his fine eyes a keener appreciation of nomadic life and nomads than he ever expressed.
"I have a new play coming out next month," he explained, "and Lady Barbara wants me to hang it up till she's taught me did you say 'life'?" "Yes! Margaret, darling, any young man may write one successful bad play " There was a gasp of orotund protest from Lady Poynter. "My dear Babs!" "Of course it's a bad play! What I don't know about bad plays isn't worth knowing, I've seen so many of them!
The following evening Clayton told me, with rather a supercilious air, that a workman calling himself Joe Muggins wanted to speak to me. 'He did not know your name, ma'am, but he described the lady he wanted, so I knew it was you. He said you had asked him a question about a man named Jack Poynter. 'Oh, it is all right, thank you, Clayton, I returned quickly, and I went out into the hall.
Convinced that Mr. Poynter's eyes were upon her from the hay-camp, Diane read the ode with absolute gravity and consigned it to the fire. The minstrel's attitude toward the hay-nomad might be one of subtle undermining and shrugging ridicule, but surely with his imperturbable gift of satire, Mr. Poynter held the cards! Still another morning Diane found a book at the edge of her camp.
Their art resembles that of the more capable and sincere Royal Academicians: it is a little higher than that of Sir Edward Poynter and a little lower than that of the late Lord Leighton. That this is no paradox let the cave-drawings of Altamira, or such works as the sketches of horses found at Bruniquel and now in the British Museum, bear witness.
Poynter that the professor thought she had bronchitis, that in her case tubercle would be very apt to follow, and that at present, and until she was safe, we considered marriage undesirable. Mr. Poynter said it might have been put stronger, but he would make it do. He made it. The first effect was an attack of hysterics.
Poynter to write out my last night's worke, which pleases me this day, but yet it is pretty to reflect how much I am out of confidence with what I had done upon Gibson's discourse with me, for fear I should have done it sillily, but Poynter likes them, and Mr. Hater also, but yet I am afeard lest they should do it out of flattery, so conscious I am of my ignorance.
He didn't know it. "Well," said Diane flatly, "to my thinking, this is considerably worse than blowing a tin whistle on the steps of the van!" Mr. Poynter could not be sure.
Poynter smoked most comfortably, puffing forth ingenious smoke-rings which he lazily sought to string upon his pipestem and busily engaging himself in a variety of other conspicuously peaceful occupations. All in all, there was something so tranquil and soothing in the very sight of him that Diane unbent in spite of herself.
God knows I am but an indifferent nomad and need it sorely. Night and day have I thunder-cracked the highways, losing my way and my temper until I loathe camps and motor machines and dust and wind and baked potatoes. I sincerely hope, Poynter, that you can find me the road to an inn and a bed, a bath and some iced mint to-night." Philip could and did.
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