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Updated: May 28, 2025
The memory of his friend Reardon was strongly present with him, but of Amy he thought only as of that star which had just come into his vision above the edge of dark foliage beautiful, but infinitely remote. Recalling Reardon's voice, it brought to him those last words whispered by his dying companion.
The boy was educated at an excellent local school; at eighteen he had a far better acquaintance with the ancient classics than most lads who have been expressly prepared for a university, and, thanks to an anglicised Swiss who acted as an assistant in Mr Reardon's business, he not only read French, but could talk it with a certain haphazard fluency.
He rose in anguish, and stood looking about him as if aid might somewhere be visible. Presently there was a knock at the front door, and on opening he beheld the vivacious Mr Carter. This gentleman had only made two or three calls here since Reardon's marriage; his appearance was a surprise. 'I hear you are leaving town for a time, he exclaimed.
The editor of The Wayside, in a pleasantly-written note, begged to return the paper on Pliny's Letters which had recently been submitted to him; he was sorry it did not strike him as quite so interesting as the other contributions from Reardon's pen. This was a trifle.
He had striven then to make up by every last nicety of dress and manner for the something his origin had lacked. It was not indeed the perfection of his dress that disconcerted; it was the kind of man Reardon had grown to be: for of him the clothes did, in their degree, testify. Jeffrey was conscious that every muscle in Reardon's body had its just measure of attention.
But he could not pen a letter of retractation, and there remained with him a new cause of exasperated wretchedness. Excepting the people with whom he came in contact at the hospital, he had no society but that of Biffen. The realist visited him once a week, and this friendship grew closer than it had been in the time of Reardon's prosperity.
As there was sunshine Amy accompanied her husband for his walk in the afternoon; it was long since they had been out together. An open carriage that passed, followed by two young girls on horseback, gave a familiar direction to Reardon's thoughts. 'If one were as rich as those people! They pass so close to us; they see us, and we see them; but the distance between is infinity.
"Make it a point to pass by my state-room window after dark. You'll find a scrap of paper on the sill. Help yourself to it." "Faith, I will," Mr. Reardon promised fervently, and the tube closed with a click. TERENCE Reardon's preparations for the night's work began the instant he hung up the speaking-tube. The Narcissus carried three assistant engineers, in consequence of which Mr.
Generous impulses alternated with moods of discontent. The thought of her husband in his squalid lodgings tempted her to forget injuries and disillusions, and to play the part of a generous wife. It would be possible now for them to go abroad and spend a year or two in healthful travel; the result in Reardon's case might be wonderful.
I was buying loyalty, and by the Holy Pink-Toed Prophet, I think I'll get it. Come to think of it, there was a look in Reardon's eyes that I liked, when he took my hand in those greasy paws of his and said he was a proud man to work for me. Matt, that fellow is full of bellicose veins. He may not fight for me, but he'll fight for Mrs.
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