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Updated: June 26, 2025
Her emotions, not always under control, consorted oddly with her broad and placid face. She knew Lady Maria Wenman, and it was she who actually performed the introduction, Mrs. John being fast at her stair-head. "I particularly want you to know my dear friend Miss Sanchia Percival Lady Maria Wenman. A great heart, Lady Maria, in a frame of steel." "Oh, indeed," said Lady Maria.
This poor lady looks as though she hadn't slept or rested or eaten since we saw her last. 'How could I eat or rest or sleep? cried Sanchia brokenly. 'After all that has happened? Oh, I wish I were dead! Helen did not budge for the coffee. Her eyes were blazing. Sanchia slid down from the saddle and came to the door. Longstreet hastened to her side and the two went in together.
Had she been less than a very clever woman who had long lived, and lived well, by her wits, she must have found the situation too much for her. But no one of her hearers, excepting possibly the one chiefly interested, failed to do Sanchia Murray justice for her cleverness. As it was, she did not fear the outcome from the outset.
"Miss Sanchia and I have been swearing eternal friendship," said Lady Maria. "Exchanging drops of blood, eh, Aunt?" chirped the cheerful youth. "Nothing like it." "I have no blood to spare, William," she replied, "and if I had, Miss Sanchia has too much. Now you can take her away while I talk to Helen. Good-by, my dear," she bade Sanchia.
Then he turned half to Sanchia, but didn't look at her. "I understood you were leaving this afternoon. You had better order a fly. There's the telephone." He held out an envelope. "I think that you will find this correct." Sanchia was at her bureau. "Put it on the table, please," she said, without turning; and while Ingram hovered, Mrs.
By this name, it seems, he also figured Sanchia, whose synonyms, threatened to be as many as those of Artemis or the Virgin Mary. From poring for signs of her in the face of earth he was come to see little else. If the west wind was her breath and the hills were her breasts, it needed a mystic to see them so; and he was become a mystic.
He came to picture the mating of these two Sanchia the salient, beautiful woman, and his master of the clear, long- enduring, searching eyes, and that strange look of second-sight upon him which those only have who live apart from men, under the sky. It is a look you can never mistake. Sailors have it, and shepherds, and dwellers in the desert. The eye sees through you into you, and beyond you.
That his former simple kindness would have awakened any serious affection had failed to suggest itself to him. But swiftly he forgot Sanchia and her vindictiveness. She had mentioned Courtot; for a little as he rode into the hills he puzzled over Courtot's recurrent disappearances. He recalled how, always when he came to a place where he might expect to find the gambler, he had passed on.
There was a probability, too, that below a surface exquisitely calm there lurked corrosive tooth and claw. Here are sufficient elements of danger to draw any woman; so Sanchia found herself presently drawn. He came to Charles Street one evening late in November, to what Lady Maria called a little party. There was an autumn session that year, and London full.
Again as before with Vicky Sanchia had not the heart to gainsay him. She allowed him to speculate as he would; and her mother, returning, found the pair, one on the other's knee, with the future cut and dried. But Sanchia rose at her entry. "Dearest, I must go now," she told him, "but I'll see you again very soon." He urged her to stay and dine. "We're quite alone, you know!
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