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Updated: May 6, 2025
I didn't know it until just a few minutes ago. But I do, mother. I'd like to marry her. Tell her not to cry too much. Jimmy was playing cards, they say, and a big shell fell inside the redoubt. Philip I think you knew Harry Sayre? Transferred from the 7th to the Zouaves as lieutenant in the 5th company?" "Yes. Was he killed?"
"That will do, Daisy; don't say another word of that sort!" and Bill's voice was so stern and tense that Daisy stopped, a little frightened at his demeanour. What he might have said further, she never knew, for just then Guy Martin and Lora Sayre came strolling into the room. "Hello, people!" said Guy. "Where's everybody that belongs to this chateau?
"He isn't going to explain anything? He'll have to, I think, if he expects to practise here. There have been all sorts of stories." "I don't know, Mrs. Sayre." "How is Doctor David?" she asked, after a pause. "Better. It wouldn't surprise me now to see him mend rapidly."
She would come in a day or two, but now she must get her bearings. He was, to know that she was not angry, and felt it all for the best, and she was very lovingly his, Elizabeth. She knew now that she would eventually marry Wallie Sayre if only to get away from pity. He would have to know the truth about her, that she did not love any one; not even her father and her mother.
Sayre, respecting the President's views, did not press the claim.
I'm going Wednesday night." He looked downcast over that, and he was curious, too. But he made no comment save: "Well, better luck next time." "Just imagine," said Nina. "She's going with Dick Livingstone. Can you imagine it?" But Wallace Sayre could and did. He had rather a stricken moment, too. Of course, there might be nothing to it; but on the other hand, there very well might.
As he had viewed Reynolds' unconscious figure with jealous dislike, so he viewed Wallace Sayre. Here, everywhere, his place was filled. He was angry with an unreasoning, inexplicable anger, angry at Elizabeth, angry at the boy, and at himself. He had but to cross the street and take his place there. He could drive that beardless youngster away with a word.
The Sayre girls are coming to us to-night, but Mrs. Sayre has some older guests, and she couldn't come." "Well, let's ask Mrs. Dennison. No, she's away, I know. How about Mrs. Lockwood?" "She's ill; Lena told me so this morning. Oh, Patty, shall I have to send them all word not to come?" "Looks that way to me. And I'm sorry to do that, too. How many are asked, Mona?"
He had occasional spells of violent anger at her, and of resentment, but they died when he checked up, one after the other, the inevitable series of events that had led to the catastrophe. But it was all nonsense to say that love never died. She had loved him, and there was never anything so dead as that love of hers. He had been saved one thing, however; he had never seen her with Wallie Sayre.
Perhaps it was good for her, the necessity of putting up a bold front, to join the conspiracy that was to hold Dick's place in the world against the hope of his return. And she still went to the Sayre house, sure that there at least there would be no curious glances, no too casual questions. She could not be sure of that even at home, for Nina was constantly conjecturing.
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