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Updated: June 20, 2025
"So that you can stay a little longer, eh?" said Clarence, in so ugly a tone and with so leering a look for his daughter that Rachael's heart for a moment failed her. "That's a very nice little plan, my dear, but, as it happens, I came over in the runabout! I'm a fool, you know," said Clarence sullenly. "I can be hoodwinked and deceived and made a fool of oh, sure! But there's a limit!
"Aunt Rachael" the old name came naturally after seven years "you'll think I'm quite crazy coming here this way" Charlotte, as always, was justifying her shy little efforts at living "but M'ma was busy, and" the old, nervous gasp "and it seemed only friendly to come and and inquire " "Don't cry, dear!" said Rachael's rich, kind voice. She put a hand upon Charlotte's shoulder.
Warren was thin, his hair actually showed more gray, there were deep lines about his mouth. But it was not only that; his eyes had a tired and haunted look that George found sad to see, his voice had lost its old confident ring, and he seemed weary and shaken. He asked for Alice and the children, and for Rachael and the boys. "Rachael's well," George said.
To emotion like Rachael's emotion silence was the only unthinkable thing. She had planned a dozen notes, written perhaps five. The one she left was brief: MY DEAR WARREN: I am leaving with the children for Clark's Hills. You will know best what steps to take in the matter of the freedom you desire. I will cooperate in any way. I have written Magsie that I will not contest your divorce.
At eleven o'clock to her great surprise she was in the minority for staying out. The others wanted to return to Rachael's apartment to get some more liquor, they said. Gloria argued persistently that Captain Collins's flask was half full she had just seen it then catching Rachael's eye she received an unmistakable wink.
Not a breath of wind stirred the tufted grass on the dunes; down by the weather-blown bath-houses a dozen children, her own among them, were shouting and splashing in the spreading shallows. Alice Valentine, her plain, sweet face a picture of sympathy, sat dumb and unmoving. In her own heart she felt that Rachael's was a terrible situation.
Rachael's delightful laugh rang out spontaneously from utter relief of heart. "Oh, Greg, you're delicious! Tell me about old Lady Frothingham, is she difficult, too? And how's pretty Magsie Clay?" "Now, if we're married to-morrow," the doctor Went on, too much absorbed in his topic to be lightly distracted. "But do you hear me, Ma'am? How does it sound?" "It sounds delicious! Go on!"
Rachael's old friends Judy Moran, Elinor, and the Villalongas said, and said with truth, that she had changed. She had not tried to change, but it was hard for her to get the old point of view now, to laugh at the old jokes, to listen to the old gossip.
Tears brimmed Rachael's eyes. "You saved him," she whispered. "YOU saved him; George says so, too. If that fellow down there had given him chloroform, there would have been no chance. Our only hope was to relieve that pressure on his heart, and take the risk of it being too much for him. He's as strong as a bull. But it was a fight!
"Perhaps; I don't know, Florence." Rachael's serene eyes roved the summer landscape contentedly. Mrs. Haviland looked a little puzzled. "Things are better, aren't they, dear?" she asked delicately. "Things?" "Between you and Clarence, I mean." "Oh! Yes, perhaps they are. Changed, perhaps." "How do you mean changed?" Florence was instantly in arms.
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