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Updated: May 19, 2025
I'd rather hear your guess, if you know Braybridge better than I," Wanhope said. "Well," Halson compromised, "perhaps I've known him longer." He asked, with an effect of coming to business: "Where were you?" "Tell him, Rulledge," Minver ordered, and Rulledge apparently asked nothing better. He told him, in detail, all we knew from any source, down to the moment of Wanhope's arrested conjecture.
"He did leave you at an anxious point, didn't he?" Halson smiled to the rest of us at Rulledge's expense, and then said: "Well, I think I can help you out a little. Any of you know the lady?" "By sight, Minver does," Rulledge answered for us. "Wants to paint her." "Of course," Halson said, with intelligence. "But I doubt if he'd find her as paintable as she looks, at first.
"We may not understand the feelings of a father, but we are all mothers at heart, especially Rulledge. Go on. It's very exciting," he urged, not very ironically, and Newton went on. "Well, I don't believe I could say just how the havoc began.
He had wrung our hands one after another, and now he ran out of the room. Rulledge said, in appeal to Wanhope: "I don't see how his being the dreamer invalidates the case, if his dreams affected the others." "Well," Wanhope answered, thoughtfully, "that depends." "And what do you think of its being the girl in the stateroom?" "That would be very interesting."
Minver asked; Rulledge threw himself back on the divan, and beat the cushions with impatience. "Is it essential to give them?" "Oh, no. I merely wondered. Go on." "The authorities are all right. She had disappeared with him before the others noticed. It was a thing that happened; there was no design in it; that would have been out of character.
Acton might have thought he was writing it!" He went away, leaving us to a blank silence, till Wanhope managed to say: "That inventive habit of mind is very curious. It would be interesting to know just how far it imposes on the inventor himself how much he believes of his own fiction." "I don't see," Rulledge said gloomily, "why they're so long with my dinner."
"And when they got lost from the rest of the party at that picnic " "Lost?" Rulledge demanded. "Why, yes. Didn't you know? But I ought to go back. They said there never was anything prettier than the way she unconsciously went for Braybridge the whole day. She wanted him, and she was a child who wanted things frankly when she did want them.
"Somebody," Rulledge burst out again, "ought to have kicked him." "What's become," Minver asked, "of all the dear maids and widows that you've failed to marry at the end of each summer, Rulledge?" The satire involved flattery so sweet that Rulledge could not perhaps wish to make any retort. He frowned sternly, and said, with a face averted from Minver: "Go on, Wanhope!"
"Perhaps he hadn't," Minver suggested. Wanhope waited for a thoughtful moment of censure eventuating in toleration. "You mean that she " "I don't see why you say that, Minver," Rulledge interposed, chivalrously, with his mouth full of sandwich. "I didn't say it," Minver contradicted. "You implied it; and I don't think it's fair.
There may be something in what you say; they may not care so much because they have no longer the strength the muscular strength for caring. They are too tired to care as they used. There is a whole region of most important inquiry in that direction " "Did you mean to have him take that direction?" Rulledge asked, sulkily. "He can take any direction for me," I said. "He is always delightful."
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