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'As to happiness, the looking forward is happiness, he remarked. 'Oh, the looking back! back! she cried. 'Forward! that is life. 'And backward, death, if you will; and still at is happiness. Death, and our postillion! 'Ay; I wonder why the fellow hangs to the rear, said Redworth, turning about.
And Tom Redworth says, they may bite their thumbs to the bone they don't hurt us. I tell him, he has no sense of national pride. He says, we're not prepared for war: We never are! And whose the fault? Says, we're a peaceful people, but 'ware who touches us! He doesn't feel a kick. Oh! clever snick! Hurrah for the hundred! Two-three.
Redworth was rising to be a Railway King of a period soon to glitter with rails, iron in the concrete, golden in the visionary. He had already his Court, much against his will. The powerful magnetic attractions of those who can help the world to fortune, was exercised by him in spite of his disgust of sycophants.
There was no need for Redworth to run hunting the man at so late an hour, but he was drawn on by the similarity in dissimilarity of this devotee of a woman, who could worship her at a distance, and talk of her to everybody.
Emma, an early riser that morning, for the purpose of a private consultation with Mr. Redworth, found her lying placidly wakeful, to judge by appearances. 'You have not slept, my dear child? 'Perfectly, said Diana, giving her hand and offering the lips.
'Leave it to me for a day. Let me have your word that you won't take a step: positively neither you nor Colonel Hartswood. I'll see you by appointment at your Club. Redworth looked up over the chimneys. 'We 're going to have a storm and a gale, I can tell you. 'Gale and storm! cried Sir Lukin; 'what has that got to do with it? 'Think of something else for, a time.
Diana enjoyed her walk beneath the lingering brown-red of the frosty November sunset, with the scent of sand-earth strong in the air. 'I had to hire a chariot because there was no two-horse carriage, said Redworth, 'and I wished to reach Copsley as early as possible. She replied, smiling, that accidents were fated. As a certain marriage had been! The comparison forced itself on her reflections.
Another turn offered the welcome sight of a blazing doorway on a rise of ground off the road. Approaching it, the old man requested him to 'bide a bit, and stalked the ascent at long strides. A vigorous old fellow. Redworth waited below, observing how he joined the group at the lighted door, and, as it was apparent, put his question of the whereabout of The Crossways.
The foolish frizzle of bacon sang in his ears as he walked from end to end of the room; an illusion of his fancy pricked by a frost-edged appetite. But the anticipated contest with Diana checked and numbed the craving. Was Warwick a man to proceed to extremities on a mad suspicion? What kind of proof had he? Redworth summoned the portrait of Mr.
Lady Dunstane's opposingly corresponding stillness provoked Miss Paynham to expatiate, for she had sprightliness and some mental reserves of the common order. Clearly, Lady Dunstane mused while listening amiably, Tony never could have designed this gabbler for the mate of Thomas Redworth!
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