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Updated: May 28, 2025
Before her marriage she had done so as a mere matter of course, accompanying her mother, but Reardon's attitude with regard to the popular religion speedily became her own; she let the subject lapse from her mind, and cared neither to defend nor to attack where dogma was concerned.
The fireman reached for the monkey wrench and at that instant the weak, pale-faced skipper lurched around the corner of the house and his automatic commenced to bark. It was not a time for sentiment. Michael J. Murphy glanced once at Terence Reardon's bloody, upturned face, and the glazed eyes thrilled him with horror. The chief engineer was dead!
The cheque came as soon as it was requested, and Reardon's face brightened for the moment. Blessed money! root of all good, until the world invent some saner economy. 'How much do you owe your mother? he inquired, without looking at Amy. 'Six pounds, she answered coldly. 'And five to Carter; and rent, twelve pounds ten. We shall have a matter of fifty pounds to go on with.
Uhl, who very deftly stabbed him high up on the hip for his carelessness; then the chief swung again, and Mr. Uhl was out of the fight. Not so the big coal passer, however. He planted in Terence Reardon's face as pretty a left and right hay-makers both as one could hope to see anywhere outside a prize-ring; whereupon the chief took the count with great abruptness.
I had been disposed to ask for permission to go in the boat, but Mr Reardon's countenance looked rather stormy, so I had given up the idea, and contented myself with stopping on board with my two messmates, to watch the dark mouth of the river.
Your uncle Alfred and his daughter were staying at John Yule's, and I saw something of them. I was invited to the house. 'Did you speak of us? 'To Miss Yule only. I happened to meet her on a walk, and in a blundering way I mentioned Reardon's name. But of course it didn't matter in the least.
Mrs Yule, a lady rather too pretentious in her tone to be attractive to a man of Reardon's refinement, hastened to assure him how well his books were known in her house, 'though for the run of ordinary novels we don't care much. Miss Yule, not at all pretentious in speech, and seemingly reserved of disposition, was good enough to show frank interest in the author.
He stepped up to Captain O'Hara, looked round cautiously as if expecting to be overheard, winked knowingly and whispered, as he jerked a significant thumb toward the unhappy Mr. Henckel: "Sure 'tis the likes av us that can take the measure av the likes av thim." "It is," replied Captain O'Hara, and reached for Terry Reardon's awful hand. "It is!"
'Edith told me yesterday, so I thought I'd look you up. He was in spring costume, and exhaled fresh odours. The contrast between his prosperous animation and Reardon's broken-spirited quietness could not have been more striking. 'Going away for your health, they tell me. You've been working too hard, you know. You mustn't overdo it. And where do you think of going to?
The explanation of this was that Carter had begun to think there might be a foundation for Mrs Yule's hypothesis that the novelist was not altogether in his sound senses. At first he scouted the idea, but as time went on it seemed to him that Reardon's countenance certainly had a gaunt wildness which suggested disagreeable things.
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