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Updated: June 24, 2025
"See here, my son," she said, "remember what I have always told you. One can do without anything in this world except money. We have plenty for the moment, it is true, but a stroke of ill-fortune, and our income might well vanish. Now listen, Bertrand. Make sure of this girl's money. She is of age, and she will marry you." "Her guardian would never give his consent," Saton said.
"So he may be," Vandermere answered grimly, "but his is not the Thespian stage. He is a lecturer and writer on occultism, and in his way, I suppose, he is amazingly clever." "Do you mean Bertrand Saton?" his friend asked, with interest. Vandermere nodded. "You have heard the fellow's name, of course," he said. "For the last month or so one seems to meet him everywhere, and in all sorts of society.
The little group of people were all leaning forward with eyes riveted upon Pauline Marrabel. Even Rochester's expression had become a little tense. "Think again," Saton said. "There was only a corner of the wood between you and that field when the shot was fired. You are walking there now, now, as the shots are fired. Bend forward. You can see through those trees if you try.
I know a most delightful little hiding-place just at the top of the slate pit an old keeper's shelter." Saton shook his head. He avoided looking at her. "The beaters are in the other part of the wood already," he said. "Very likely they will come this way, too. If they see us together, they will tell Mr. Rochester. I don't want him to know that I am here just yet." She rose reluctantly.
Remember the person's name which I have mentioned. Remember it, obey what I have said, and you may fool the whole world. Forget it, and I am your enemy. Understand that." "And you," Saton answered with darkening face, "understand this from me, Rochester. I do not for a moment admit your right to speak to me in this fashion. I admit no obligation to you.
Oh, I know you're not supposed to talk about it, but that really doesn't matter down here. You shall have a comfortable chair by my side, and some hot muffins." Saton went back to his seat by the side of Lois Champneyes, carrying his refilled teacup in his hand. She looked at him a little curiously. "Tell me," she said, "have you really never met Lord Guerdon before?"
Slowly he made his way to the lodge gates, and passing through approached the house. There were many lights burning. A certain repressed air of excitement was certainly visible. Saton longed, yet dared not, to ask for news from the people at the lodge. At any rate, the blinds were still up, and the doctors there. Probably the man was alive. Perhaps, even, he might recover!
Saton wondered afterwards many times at the extraordinary nonchalance with which he faced the remainder of that terrible day. He wrote several letters, and was aware that he wrote them carefully and well. He had his usual evening bath and changed his clothes, making perhaps a little more careful toilet even than usual.
Saton was still in the half darkened library, sitting with his back turned to the light, and his eyes fixed with a curious stare into vacancy, when the door opened, and Rochester entered unannounced. Saton rose at once to his feet, but the interrogative words died away upon his lips. Rochester's fair, sunburnt face was grim with angry purpose. He had the air of a man stirred to the very depths.
Why should I? I have spoken to them of the things which make life for us. I have told them my thoughts. What need is there of introduction? I shake hands with no one. I leave that, and silly speeches, and banquets, to my enemies, the professors. These are not my ways." "It shall be as you wish, of course," Saton replied. "You are very fortunate to be able to live and work alone.
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