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Updated: May 9, 2025
"A reading-club?" shouted everybody. "Yes. It is Mrs. Poinsett's hour to read to Lady Moreham, and she kindly suggested our joining them. Would you like to?" "Lady Moreham? How wonderful!" murmured Allyne, and the sisters exchanged meaning glances. But Dwight looked dubious. "I'd rather hear one of Quint's yarns," he remarked, frankly.
The very act of bringing it out really helped me to trace it follow it all up and piece it all together. "They haven't been good they've only been absent. It has been easy to live with them, because they're simply leading a life of their own. They're not mine they're not ours. They're his and they're hers!" "Quint's and that woman's?" "Quint's and that woman's. They want to get to them."
Bonteen were there, and the great question of the day was settled in two minutes, before the guests went out of the drawing-room. "Stick to your farthing," said Mr. Gresham. "I think so," said Mr. Palliser. "Quint's a very easy word," said Mr. Bonteen. "But squint is an easier," said Mr. Gresham, with all a prime minister's jocose authority.
"Oh, it wasn't HIM!" Mrs. Grose with emphasis declared. "It was Quint's own fancy. To play with him, I mean to spoil him." She paused a moment; then she added: "Quint was much too free." This gave me, straight from my vision of his face SUCH a face! a sudden sickness of disgust. "Too free with MY boy?" "Too free with everyone!"
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