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Updated: June 19, 2025
Then he talks loud; but I hope your lordship didn't hear all his foolishness." "Oh dear no; I was engaged at the time with the architect," Lord Blandamer said; but his tone made Janaway think that Mr Sharnall's voice had carried further than was convenient. "I did not hear what he said, but he seemed to be much put out.
It seemed to him a matter for much regret that Mr Sharnall's independence, however lofty, should stand in the way of so handsome a benefaction, and he was at pains to elaborate and press home all the arguments that he could muster to shake the organist's resolve.
On most evenings he either went down to Mr Sharnall's room, or asked the organist to come upstairs to his, considering that the solitude incident to bachelor life in advancing years was doubtless to blame to a large extent for these wandering fancies. Mr Sharnall occupied himself at night in sorting and reading the documents which had once belonged to Martin Joliffe.
She was vested for these functions in a new dress of coffee-coloured silk, and what with a tea-urn hissing in Mr Sharnall's room, and muffins, toast, and sweet-cakes, there were such goings-on in the house, as had not been seen since the last coach rolled away from the old Hand of God thirty years before.
She did not take him into Mr Sharnall's old room, partly because she had left half-finished clothes lying there, and partly from the more romantic reflection that it was in Westray's room that they had met before. They walked through the hall and up the stairs, she going first and he following, and she was glad of the temporary respite which the long flights secured her.
Westray smoothed away the deprecating expression with which he had felt constrained to discountenance such excesses, and set Mr Sharnall's tongue going again with a question: "What did you say Joliffe used to go away for?" "Oh, it's a long story; it's the nebuly coat again. I spoke of it in the church the silver and sea-green that turned his head.
There was something that moved strangely inside Mr Sharnall's battered body as he read the letter an upheaval of emotion; the child's heart within the man's; his young hopeful self calling to his old hopeless self.
These conditions can scarcely occur before middle age, and Westray, being young and eminently conscientious, was feeling the full peacefulness of his high-minded intention steal over him, when the door opened, and the organist entered. An outbreak of temper and a night of hard drinking had left their tokens on Mr Sharnall's face.
Will you not join me in a cup of cocoa? The kettle boils." Mr Sharnall's face fell. "You ought to have been an old woman," he said; "only old women drink cocoa. Well, I don't mind if I do; any port in a storm."
The Rector contented himself with the permission, however ungraciously accorded, and found himself a little later in Mr Sharnall's room. "Mrs Parkyn was hoping that she might have prevailed on you to lunch with us on the day of the Confirmation.
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