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Updated: June 29, 2025
It would be putting us to no inconvenience; Mrs Parkyn would be glad that you should lunch with us yourself." Mr Sharnall nodded, this time deprecatingly. "You are very kind. Mrs Parkyn is very considerate, but the Bishop has signified his intention of lunching in this house; I could scarcely venture to contravene his lordship's wishes." "The Bishop is a friend of yours?" the Rector asked.
Wondrous musings, wondrous thought-reading, by a countrified young lady in her teens; but is it not out of the mouths of babes and sucklings that strength has been eternally ordained? She was awakened from her reverie by the door being flung open, and she leapt from her perch as Mr Sharnall entered the room. "Heyday! heyday!" he said, "what have we here?
But on the feeble and the failing such times fall with a weight of fretful despondency; and so they fell on Mr Sharnall. He was very restless about the time of the mid-day meal. There came up a thick, dark fog from the sea, which went rolling in great masses over Cullerne Flat, till its fringe caught the outskirts of the town.
Poor Mr Sharnall also must have noticed that something was going on, for he had hinted as much to Westray a fortnight or so before he died. Westray was uncertain as to Lord Blandamer's feelings; he gave the architect the idea of a man who had some definite object to pursue in making himself interesting to Anastasia, while his own affections were not compromised.
The architect had learned to regard the beetling roof with an almost superstitious awe, and was this day so fascinated with the strange effect as to be scarcely aware that the service was over till Mr Sharnall spoke. "You said you would like to hear my service in D flat `Sharnall in D flat, did you not? I will play it through to you now, if you care to listen.
And then a voice crossed Mr Sharnall's memory, saying, "When I am here myself, I beg that there may be no more fugue." "No more fugue" there was a finality in the phrase uncompromising as the "no more sea" of the Apocalyptic vision. It made Mr Sharnall smile bitterly; he woke from his daydream, and was back in the present.
He is crazy about his organ, and thinks he ought to have a new one, or, at least, a waterworks to blow it, like what they have at Carisbury. Don't pay no attention to him; no one minds what Sharnall says in Cullerne." The clerk was astonished at his wife's wisdom, yet apprehensive as to how it might be taken.
He remembered the quarrel of the night before, and how Mr Sharnall, in coming to beg his pardon that morning, had humbled himself before a younger man. He remembered how they had made up their differences; surely an hour ago he would willingly have paid ten pounds to know that their differences could be made up.
My friend Mr Sharnall was well-known among his acquaintances to be much interested in this picture. He believed it to be of more importance than appeared, and he expressed himself strongly to that effect in my presence, and once also, I remember, in yours. "But for his untimely death I think he would have long ago made the discovery to which chance has now led me.
She wore a close-fitting dress of black, and had a string of pale corals round her neck. "Good-evening, Mr Sharnall," she said. "I hope you are not very wet" and gave a quick glance of inquiry at Westray. The organist did not appear pleased at seeing her. He grunted testily, and, saying "Where is your aunt?
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