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Updated: June 25, 2025
He did not get much beyond this point at the time, though he remained talking with Lady Sunderbund for nearly an hour longer. The rest was merely a beating out of what had already been said. But insensibly she renewed her original charm, and as he became accustomed to her he forgot a certain artificiality in her manner and the extreme modernity of her costume and furniture.
From this she broke away by turning suddenly to Lady Ella. "Youa husband's views," she said, "we'e a 'eal 'evelation to me. It was like not being blind all at once." Lady Ella was always pleased to hear her husband praised. Her colour brightened a little. "They seem very ordinary views," she said modestly. "You share them?" cried Lady Sunderbund. "But of course," said Lady Ella.
Half my p'ope'ty is in shipping and a lot of the 'eat in munitions. I'm 'icher than eva. Isn't the' a sort of g'andeur?" she pressed. He put the elevation down. He took the plan from her hands and seemed to study it. But he was really staring blankly at the whole situation. "Lady Sunderbund," he said at last, with an effort, "I am afraid all this won't do." "Won't do!" "No.
Oh, it has its grandeur! I don't want you to think that what you are doing may not be altogether fine and right for you to do. But it is not what I have to do.... I cannot indeed I cannot go on with this project upon these lines." He paused, flushed and breathless. Lady Sunderbund had heard him to the end. Her bright face was brightly flushed, and there were tears in her eyes.
He was still in the Bishop Andrews cap and purple cassock he affected on these occasions; the Men Helpers loved purple; and he was disentangling himself from two or three resolute bores for our loyal laymen can be at times quite superlative bores when Miriam came to him. "Mummy says, 'Come to the drawing-room if you can. There is a Lady Sunderbund who seems particularly to want to see you."
She was dressed in a way and moved across the room in a way that was more reminiscent of Botticelli's Spring than ever only with a kind of superadded stiffish polonaise of lace and he did not want to be reminded of Botticelli's Spring or wonder why she had taken to stiff lace polonaises. He did not enquire whether he had met Lady Sunderbund to better advantage at Mrs.
Brighton-Pomfrey towards the Serpentine he acted that stormy interview with Lady Sunderbund over again. At the end, as a condition indeed of his departure, he had left things open. He had assented to certain promises. He was to make her understand better what it was he needed. He was not to let anything that had happened affect that "spi'tual f'enship."
"My dear Lady Sunderbund," he said with a sudden change of manner, "I must needs follow the light of my own mind. I have had a vision of God, I have seen him as a great leader towering over the little lives of men, demanding the little lives of men, prepared to take them and guide them to the salvation of mankind and the conquest of pain and death.
"This fearful wa'," Lady Sunderbund interjected. But Princhester had been a critical and trying change, and "The Light under the Altar" case had ploughed him deeply.
I feel like a son, growing up, who finds his mother isn't quite so clear-spoken nor quite so energetic as she seemed to be once. She's right, I feel sure. I've never doubted her fundamental goodness." "Yes," said Lady Sunderbund, very eagerly, "yes." "And yet there's this futility.... You know, my dear lady, I don't know what to do.
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