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Updated: June 25, 2025
I don't think he loves her now half as well as he does me; still, perhaps she suits him better, because she manages him, and I never could. Miss Gwynne's soliloquy is cut short by a rap at the door, followed by the entrance of Rowland Prothero, who says, as he bows and seems about to retreat, 'I beg your pardon I was told Mr Jones was here.
It was evident that the writer had been obliged to conclude hastily, because her paper was so wet with tears that she could write no more. When Mr Prothero finished reading, he hemmed two or three times and cleared his throat, and took off his spectacles and wiped them; then perceiving that his wife was crying like a child, he said,
'I 'ouldn't take twenty pounds for that dog, said Mr Prothero when he returned to the house, and sat down to breakfast. 'Hadn't we better send to look for them? asked Mrs Prothero timidly. 'I'll see 'em hanged first. What! go and make another hullabaloo all through the country, as if one wasn't enough in one house.
Moreover, Prothero had an earthy liking for animals, he could stroke and tickle strange cats until they wanted to leave father and mother and all earthly possessions and follow after him, and he mortgaged a term's pocket money and bought and kept a small terrier in the school house against all law and tradition, under the baseless pretence that it was a stray animal of unknown origin.
She appeared to be in the same state of exhaustion as on the previous night; and if she had noticed Mrs Prothero at all, the transient effort was over, and she remained with closed eyes and listless form, whilst the good woman looked at her and felt her pulse. Then her lips moved slightly, as if wishing to say something, but emitted no sound. What was to be done for one in such a helpless state?
Things as they are may be fun for lawyers and politicians and court people and douaniers; they may suit the loan-mongers and the armaments shareholders, they may even be more comfortable for the middle-aged, but what, except as an inconvenience, does that matter to you or me?" Prothero always pleased Benham when he swept away empires. There was always a point when the rhetoric broke into gesture.
"I confess, in the streets and in my lodgings I am frightened. You give me confidence. I want to stay near you. I feel safe with you. If you will give me writing-paper, I will send for my things." For a moment the Jew hesitated, and then motioned to a desk. As Ford wrote, Prothero stood near him, and the reporter knew that over his shoulder the Jew was reading what he wrote.
It peeped out in the distribution of their time, in the direction of their glances. Whenever women walked about, Prothero gave way to a sort of ethnological excitement. "That girl a wonderful racial type." But in Moscow he was sentimental.
At the week-end Sir Godfrey returned to bring fresh elements. He said that democracy was unscientific. "To deny aristocracy is to deny the existence of the fittest. It is on the existence of the fittest that progress depends." "But do our social conditions exalt the fittest?" asked Prothero. "That is another question," said Benham. "Exactly," said Sir Godfrey. "That is another question.
Hunter admitted, "but to a certain extent it is a recognized custom; it is a sort of tribute that is exacted at race time, just as in France every lady expects a present from every gentleman of her acquaintance on New Year's Day." "I wouldn't bet if I didn't mean to pay honestly," Isobel said. "And if Mr. Prothero doesn't win, my debts will all be honorably discharged."
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