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Updated: September 5, 2025
After declining half a dozen invitations she was left in peace, free to devote all her time to composing her letters, to poring over plays and books about the theater, or to sitting listless absorbed in day-dreams. The one old friend who refused to be disposed of was Quinby Graham. Sometimes when she was in the most arduous throes of composition, the maid would come to her door and say: "Mr.
That, however, was greatly due to this fellow Quinby, whose determined offices one could hardly disdain after once accepting favours from him. In the press after dinner I saw his ferret's face peering this way and that, a good head higher than any other, and the moment our eyes met he began elbowing his way toward me.
"Lots of girls are stage-struck," he said presently, breaking in on Mr. Martel's rhapsody. "Miss Eleanor's young yet. Don't you believe she will get over it?" "Young! Why, Mary Anderson was playing Meg Merrilies when she was two years younger than Eleanor. I tell you, Quinby you'll forgive my addressing you thus I tell you, the girl will never get over it.
Quinby had already proved himself such an arrant gossip as to discount every word that he had said before I placed him in his proper type: it is one which I have encountered elsewhere, that of the middle-aged bachelor who will and must talk, and he had confessed his celibacy almost in his first breath; but a more pronounced specimen of the type I am in no hurry to meet again.
Lascelles herself quite well out there; I knew the other side of her case. It doesn't seem to have struck you, Quinby, that such a woman must have suffered a good deal before, and after, taking such a step. Or I don't suppose you would have spread yourself to make her suffer a little more,"
I ought to have been disarmed by the coincidence; but I recalled our initial conversation, about India and Hamilton and Mrs. Lascelles, and I could not consider it a coincidence at all. "You don't mean to tell me," said I, aping the surprise I might have felt, "that our friend wrote and gave Mrs. Lascelles away to you of his own accord?" But Quinby did not vouchsafe an answer.
The large committee room was crowded for the hearing. The speakers were Mrs. Jenks, the Rev. John Vannevar, Mrs. Wood and Miss Chase, the latter presenting a petition of 1,100 names headed by Governor and Mrs. Quinby and Clarence E. Carr, recent candidate for Governor. The committee reported the bill favorably but on January 26 the House voted to postpone indefinitely by 160 to 121.
Mr. Quinby had been the owner of a fleet of vessels plying between San Francisco and China. Needing a wireless operator on one of his ships, he had applied to the Dean of the college and he had recommended Bert, who was pursuing a course in electricity and making a specialty of wireless telegraphy.
"I saw you talking to them," he told me confidentially, "last night, you know!" "Indeed." He took me by the sleeve. "Of course I don't know what you said, but it's evidently had an effect. Evers has gone off alone for the first time since he has been here." I shifted my position. "You evidently keep an eye on him, Mr. Quinby." "I do, Clephane. I find him a diverting study.
In a moment of swift, sure vision she saw Quinby Graham's homely, whimsical face, she felt his strong arms around her, and into her soul came a deep, still feeling of unutterable content. "I am coming, Quin!" she whispered, with a little catch in her voice. Then it was that Destiny played her second trump for Quin.
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