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Updated: May 31, 2025
The second building is a store-house, containing provisions for the African squadron, as well as the persons employed on the island; and the third, a house that was built for the Governor, but which Colonel Nichols allows Lieutenant Stanwell to reside in, he being a married man, with a family of five children.
It appeared that Stanwell had also been paid in advance, and well paid; for he began to permit himself various mild distractions, in which he generally contrived to have the Arrans share.
But her grief over Stanwell's apostasy could not efface the fact that he had offered her brother the means of escape from town, and Stanwell himself was consoled by the reflection that but for Mrs. Millington's portrait he could not have performed even this trifling service for his friends.
Stanwell made an impatient gesture. "You've got to live on something or he has, even if you don't include yourself!" Her blush deepened miserably, but she held her head high. "That's just it that's what I came here to say to you." She stood a moment gazing away from him at the lake. He looked at her in surprise. "You came here to say something to me?" "Yes.
"If he were in good health it would not matter he would throw off such weakness, he would live only for the joy of his work; but he is losing ground, his strength is failing, and he is so afraid there will not be time enough left time enough for full recognition," she explained. The quiver in her voice silenced Stanwell: he was afraid of echoing it with his own.
"Ah, Schracker vell, the Schracker sdyle would take first rate if you were a foreigner but, for goodness sake, don't try it on Mrs. Millington!" Stanwell pushed the two skits aside. "Oh, you can trust me," he cried humorously. "The pearls and the eyes very large the extremities very small. Isn't that about the size of it?" "Dat's it dat's it. And the cheque as big as you vant to make it! Mrs.
Stanwell had thrown it off in a burst of imitative frenzy, beginning for the mere joy of the satire, but gradually fascinated by the problem of producing the requisite mingling of attributes. He was surprised now to see how well he had caught the note, and Shepson's face reflected his approval. "By George! Dat's something like," the dealer ejaculated. "Like what? Like Mungold?" Stanwell laughed.
Kate's glance radiantly confirmed this declaration of independence, and Stanwell, with his evasive laugh, asked her if, meanwhile, she should object to his investing a part of his ill-gotten gains in theatre tickets for the party that evening.
The two, since then, had continued to exchange confidences regarding the sculptor's health, and Stanwell, anxious to waylay the doctor after his visit, left the studio door ajar, and went out when he heard a sound of leave-taking across the landing. But it appeared that the doctor had just come, and that it was Mungold who was making his adieux.
Shepson waited to observe the result of this overwhelming announcement, and Stanwell, after a momentary halt of surprise, brought out laughingly: "But this is a Mungold. Is this what she calls being original?" "Shoost exactly," said Shepson, with unexpected acuteness. "That's vat dey all want something different from what all deir friends have got, but shoost like it all de same.
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