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Ryves declined to have her life abused, but in fact, at the proper moment, at the jolly little place, to which she did accompany him it dealt in macaroni and Chianti the pair put their elbows on the crumpled cloth and, face to face, with their little emptied coffee-cups pushed away and the young man's cigarette lighted by her command, became increasingly confidential.
"I can't make out why it matters to you, one way or the other, nor why you should think it worth talking about," the young man reasoned. "Neither can I. It's just a whim." "Certainly, if it will give you any pleasure, I'll say nothing at the shop." "That's charming of you, and I'm very grateful. I see now that this was why the spirit moved me to come up to save them," Mrs. Ryves went on.
She had Sidney by the hand now, and the young man was on the other side of her. They moved toward the station she had offered to go part of the way. "But with your miraculous gift it's a wonder you haven't divined." "I only divine what I want," said Mrs. Ryves. "That's very convenient!" exclaimed Peter, to whom Sidney had presently come round again.
Ryves then proved the identity of certain documents which bore the signatures of the Earl of Warwick and the Duke of Kent. They were chiefly written on morsels of paper, and elicited the remark from the Lord Chief-Justice, that "his royal highness seemed to have been as poor as to paper as the earl." She said that these documents were written in her own presence. Among them were these: Mrs.
It offered him a sight none the less agreeable for being unexpected the graceful and agitated figure of Mrs. Ryves. Her agitation was so visible that he thought at first that something dreadful had happened to her child that she had rushed up to ask for help, to beg him to go for the doctor.
Such papers I bequeath to you for your sole and uncontrolled property, to use and act upon as you deem fit, according to expediency of things. Receive this as the sacred will of JAMES WILMOT." "June st, 1789. Witness, WARWICK." Mrs. Ryves maintained that up to the moment of the opening of the sealed packet her mother had believed herself to be the daughter of Robert Wilmot and the niece of Dr.
Ryves demanded, as they stood there together; to which he replied that he would tell her all about it if she would send Miss Teagle off with Sidney.
Bundy's ear, but it was easy to see that it didn't reverberate in her fancy. She had no idea of the picture it would have been natural for him to desire that Mrs. Ryves should present to him, and she was therefore unable to estimate the points in respect to which his actual impression was irritating. She had indeed no adequate conception of the intellectual requirements of a young man in love.
Serres, he being at this time so poor that he had not the means to go; indeed, Mrs. Ryves asserted that sometimes the earl was so terribly impoverished that he had not even a sheet of note-paper to write upon. His mission was successful; and on his return he produced three sets of papers, one of which he said he had received from Dr.
She had partly descended the staircase and she stopped, leaning against the baluster and smiling up at him. "Surely you've had your reward in the honour of my visit." "That's delightful as far as it goes. But what will you do for me if I burn the papers?" Mrs. Ryves considered a moment. "Burn them first and you'll see!"
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