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Updated: May 10, 2025
"A triumph exclusively your own," he answered, with lingering emphasis. "No other woman in the world could have achieved as much." Quita glanced at him quizzically. "I honestly wonder," she said slowly, "if you could reckon up at random how many times you have said that sort of thing before."
All the Rajah's party was mounted, save Mrs Mayhew and the medical missionary's wife, who preferred the leisurely ease of their dandies: and in the van of the procession, a hundred yards and more in advance of it, Quita rode with James Garth.
After all, so long as she liked him, and valued his friendship, she was welcome to hate the supposed unknown, whose identity she must never be allowed to guess. Meanwhile Lenox and his wife went on into the house, Quita disarming reproof by instant apology. "It was delightful; but I'm sorry we were away too long, dear." He smiled contentedly down upon her. "Well there are limits!
But Quita saw in his eyes the one thing she wanted; and may surely be forgiven if she paid small heed to his plight. Her face fell at the details of the damage done. "Mayn't I just have a sight of him as he passes us?" she pleaded. "Better not," he answered kindly, "You have an artist's brain, remember; and I want you to sleep a little to-night. Trust me to do every mortal thing I can for him.
He led her across the tent, having noted and admired his wife's skilful bit of strategy: and Lenox instinctively took the same direction. Quita chose the chair farthest from the Palace group; and in a few moments, she knew that her husband was standing close behind her.
For six months you will be free to travel, paint what you will; and for six months I shall have my mountains to grapple with." Again the light sprang to his eyes. "By the end of that time we shall know once for all how much we are ready to forego for the sake of spending our lives together. That is the ultimate test of a big thing, Quita what one will give up for it.
Both were thankful when the solemn farce of eating and drinking came to an end; and Quita rose with an audible sigh of relief. "Are you coming into the drawing-room at all?" she asked, addressing the question to his centre shirt-stud. "Yes at once. I have a good deal to say to you."
In his fright, the little fool slipped half over the khud, and if a knight-errant had not fallen from heaven, in the nick of time, we should both be lying somewhere in the valley by now, 'spoiling a patch of Indian corn'!" Maurice frowned. "Don't be gruesome, Quita." "Sorry. I didn't mean to be. I was only quoting that uncannily clever Kipling boy at Lahore.
He did not answer in words, nor did he give her the kiss she half expected; but his hand deserted the crupper, and the mule pricked a velvet ear at the check in his progress. Then Quita straightened herself, as if reasserting her cherished independence.
Then looking down, as if she saw a gulf beneath, she went on, "Noche, quita te de alli! El alba canta hallali." As she sang, the man raised himself by degrees; instead of lying he was now kneeling, his hands elevated towards the vision, his knees resting on the beasts, which lay motionless, and as if thunder-stricken. She continued, turning towards him,
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