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Updated: May 11, 2025
Rangely's talk struck him as not entirely genuine, but he was to some extent enlightened when his cousin said to him afterward: "Frances Rangely has the imitation Boston patter at her tongue's end now, but she is too thoroughly a New Yorker ever to get the spirit of it. She rattles off the words in a way that is intensely amusing."
Lots of the most rubbishy and conventional men we have, started out to be fair and work from conviction; and they simply had the choice between subservience and starvation, and cases of the choice of death from starvation haven't been over plenty." "Oh, a man is known by the tailor he keeps," threw in Rangely; "especially if he doesn't pay him."
"He's painting so many portraits nowadays that he didn't get it finished for the New York exhibition." "He must be making a lot of money," Fred Rangely observed. "He needs to to keep his poker playing up," commented Ainsworth. "He's lucky if he makes money in these days when it's the swell thing to have some foreign duffer paint all the portraits," Bently said.
"The committee are bound to put things through this time. They've been waiting for a chance to jump on somebody for a long time, and Fenton put a rod in pickle for himself when he tried to run Rangely in for secretary last election."
Nor could she, clever as she was, see the palpable reason standing before her! "I say," said Rangely, as they drove away, "he strikes me as a remarkably sound chap, Miss Flint. There is something unusual about him, something clean cut." "I've heard other people say so," Victoria replied. For the first time since she had known him, praise of Austen was painful to her.
He ceased to protest, and Mr. Rangely quickly tied the other horse and came to Victoria's aid. Supported by the young Englishman, Hilary climbed the stone steps and reached the porch, declaring all the while that he needed no assistance, and could walk alone. Victoria rang the bell, and after an interval the door was opened by Euphrasia Cotton.
Fenton's fear lest he should be too late for the business meeting had made him follow rather closely in the steps of his departing guests, and he and Rangely were just in time to hear Ethel say, "But I am going that way and I will drop you at the club." Kent hesitated an instant, and then followed her into the carriage. Fenton laughed as they drove away.
The sculptor somehow found it possible to be more frank with Rangely than with any other of his companions, and although there was a difference of some half a dozen in the count of their years, and perhaps more in their ages as measured by experiences, Herman's strong but naturally stormy nature found much pleasure in the calm philosophy of his friend.
Miss Merrivale seated herself upon a bench benevolently placed on the landing. "They sit down here, of course," she responded. "This is a sort of life-saving station," he remarked, seating himself beside her. "Oh, Mr. Rangely, how awfully funny you are." "It's my trade; I have to be to earn my living. Now you and I are the only survivors from a wreck." "Alone on a desert island?"
"What are they to us?" he asked, sinking his voice almost to a whisper. "Mrs. Rangely may be nothing to you, but Dr. Wilson is still a good deal to me, thank you." He looked at her again with perplexity in his glance, but with his face hardening. "You surely cannot mean that you have ceased to care for me just for a second of meaningless laughter?" She swept him a scornful courtesy.
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