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Updated: June 15, 2025
"Well, what do we do?" he asked. "We collect our bags and find the cab," she answered briskly. They found their bags, and there were a great many of them; Miss Ronder, having seen that they were all there and that there was no nonsense about the porter, moved off to the barrier followed by her nephew.
His mind was fixed upon his approaching interview with Foster. Foster had just paid a visit, quite unofficial and on a private personal basis, to Wistons, to sound him about the Pybus living and his action if he were offered it. Ronder understood men very much better than he understood women.
The Archdeacon, as he stood there, felt a dim mysterious pain as though an adversary whom he completely despised had found suddenly with his weapon a joint in his armour. Ronders The train that brought Falk Brandon back to Polchester brought also the Ronders Frederick Ronder, newly Canon of Polchester, and his aunt, Miss Alice Ronder.
"I'm afraid," said the Dean, smiling anxiously, "that it will be for me to give the casting vote." He paused for a moment. Then, looking straight across the table at the Clerk, he said: "I think I must decide for the roller. Canon Ronder seems to me to have proved his case."
You must have thought it all through and come out the other side. You look as though you had." Ronder hesitated. He really wished that this had not occurred. He could defeat Brandon without being given this extra weapon. His impulse was to put the boy off with some evasion and so to dismiss him.
Oh, I want my tea, I want my tea!" They were climbing up from the market-place into the High Street. Ronder looked about him with genial curiosity. "Very nice," he said; "I believe I can be comfortable here." "If you aren't comfortable you certainly won't stay," she answered him sharply. "Then I must be comfortable," he replied, laughing.
"Good-afternoon, Canon Ronder," she said. "It is very good of you to see me. I shall not detain you very long." "Well, what is it, Miss Milton?" he said, looking over his shoulder at her. "I am very busy, as a matter of fact. All these Jubilee affairs however, if I can help you." "You can help me, sir. It is a most serious matter, and I need your advice."
But last night, when my mind was filled with this letter, I found myself suddenly next to Canon Ronder, and I had a murderous impulse that was so fierce and sudden in its power that I " he broke off, shuddering. Then cried, suddenly stretching out his hands: "Oh, my lord, pray for me, pray for me! Help me! I don't know what I do I am given over to the powers of Hell!" A long silence followed.
"There!" said Brandon, stepping back a little, so that he nearly overbalanced. "That's better. But it won't stay like that for five minutes. It never does." He climbed down again, his face rosy with his exertions. "You leave it to me, Falk," he said, nodding his head. "I've got plans for you." A sudden sense of the contrast between Ronder and his father smote Falk. His father! What an infant!
The street was shining, wine-coloured, against the black walls that hemmed it in, black walls scattered with sheets of glass, absurd curtains of muslin, brown, shabby, self-ashamed backs of looking-glasses, door-knobs, flower-pots, and collections of furniture, books and haberdashery. "Suppose you leave me alone for a moment, Ellen," said Ronder, "and think, of somebody else.
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