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Updated: June 17, 2025
"'The Gray River," said Lightmark; then a little impatiently: "But how do you find it? Are you waiting for a tripod?" "I don't think I shall tell you. By falling into personal criticism, unless one is either dishonest or trivial, one runs the risk of losing a friend." "Oh, nonsense, man! It's not such a daub as that. I will risk your candour." Rainham shrugged his shoulder.
"Oh, I am fit enough," said Rainham lightly; "I have been in London, you see." "Well, I can't let you go now you are here. Won't you dine with us? Or rather no, I believe we dine out. Come back and have some tea; Eve will be enchanted. I really decline to sit in that puddle." Rainham rose slowly. "Perhaps I will," he said.
But see here do I understand that what you really want to do is to take your sister without giving your father warning? To kidnap her, in short?" "I don't see anything else to do, sir. I spoke to him a while ago about taking her away, and he only hummed and hawed and said he'd consult Mrs. Rainham. And my stepmother will never let her go as long as she can keep her as a drudge.
Rainham, as he listened to her, rather puzzled by her sudden change of attitude since their last interview, was forced to admit mentally that her reasoning, if it lacked spontaneity, was, at all events, indisputably sound; and while he found himself doubting whether the victim was not better versed in worldliness than he had at first suspected, he still felt a curious reluctance which, though he was half ashamed of his delicacy, prevented him from suggesting that, sentimental reasons apart, the betrayer still ought to be discovered, if only in order to force him to provide for the maintenance of his child.
Wish to goodness I had some of it," her husband would answer. Money was always scarce in the Rainham household. When the thunderbolt of war fell upon the world, Aunt Margaret, after the first pangs of panic, stiffened her back, and declined to leave France. England, she declared, was not much safer than anywhere else; and was it likely that she and Cecilia would run away when Bob was coming back?
Couldn't even give it back to the young lady." "I'll report you!" Mrs. Rainham fumed. "Do, ma'am. I'll get patted on the head for doin' me duty." The clerk's grin widened. Cecilia wished him good afternoon gravely, and slipped out of the office, pursued by her stepmother. "What was in that telegram?" "It was to my brother." "What was in it?"
Rainham was impressed anew by his singleness, the purity of his artistic passion. His life might be disgraceful, indescribable: his art lay apart from it; and when he took up a brush an enthusiasm, a devotion to art, almost religious, steadied his hand. "You may think me a charlatan," he said, with the same savage earnestness, "but I can tell you I am not.
Many years ago, in the days of the first Rainham and of wooden ships, it had been no doubt a flourishing ship-yard; and, indeed, models of wooden leviathans of the period, which had been turned out, not a few, in those palmy days, were still dusty ornaments of its somewhat antique office.
But there aren't many regattas going on in the regions below London Bridge nowadays. It's not much like Henley or Marlow, though it's pretty enough in its way at times. You ought to get Rainham to invite you to the dock; you would create an impression on the natives, and of course he would be delighted.
Now I suppose I'll get mine." A bell whirred sharply. The alert office-boy sprang to the summons, returning immediately. "Mr. M'Clinton can see you now, sir." Bob followed him through the oaken door, and along a narrow passage to a room where a spare, grizzled man sat at a huge roll-top desk. He rose as the boy shut the door behind his visitor. "Well, Captain Rainham. How do you do?"
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