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You shall hear some more, and tremble, sir, while you hear it," replied Suton, turning towards him, and raising his hand with a powerful but natural gesture; "it is this `Woe unto him that giveth his neighbour drink, that putteth thy bottle to him, and makest him drunken also thou art filled with shame for glory."
"Practically," said Lillyston; "I believe one follows a genuine instinct in determining not to look at the spots, however wide or dark they are, upon the sun." "And in accepting theoretically old Strabo's grand dictum, ouch oion agathon genesthai poieeteen mee pzotezon geneethenta anoza agathon. Eh?" "As Coleridge was so fond of doing," said Julian. "Ay, he needed the theory," said Suton.
Deeply, very deeply, was Brogten humiliated; he felt that his enemies had indeed heaped coals of fire upon his head. He determined, as his first duty, to go and thank them both Kennedy first, as the one against whom he had most wilfully sinned. He found Kennedy sitting down to tea, and Julian, Owen, and Suton were with him.
Suton, who "kept" near Bruce, was one of those whom the uproar puzzled and disturbed, as he sat down with sober pleasure to his evening's work. His window was opposite Bruce's, and across the narrow road he heard distinctly most of what was said.
"Of course, if you regard it in the light of `doing' so many chapels, you won't find it pleasant." "Do you mean to tell me now," said Bruce, turning round and looking full at Suton, "that you regard chapels as anything but an unmitigated nuisance?" "Most certainly I do mean to tell you so, if you ask me." "Ah! I see a Sim!" said Bruce, with the slightest possible shrug of the shoulders.
Everybody expected Owen and Home to get scholarships their first time, and Suton was considered fairly safe of one; but that Kennedy should not have got one, and that Lillyston should, were facts perfectly amazing to all who heard them. Saint Werner's was full of surprise.
"Good," said D'Acres, "and allow me to add that I have entered your rooms for the last time." Next morning Suton spoke privately to the porter, and told him that it would be best for many reasons not to report what had taken place the night before, beyond the bare fact of their having come into college late at night.
I don't say that the conscious exercise of memory mayn't be temporarily dependent on organisation, but I do believe that every fact ever imprinted on the memory, however long it may be latent, is of its very nature imperishable." "Yes," said Suton. "Memory is the book of God. Did you see that story of the shipwreck the other day?
Without noticing his remark, Suton quietly said, "I see, Bruce, that you have been treating Hazlet in a very unwarrantable way; he is clearly not in a fit condition to be trifled with any more; you must help me to take him home." "Ha! ha! rather a good joke. I shall merely shove him into the street, if I do anything. What business has he to make a beast of himself in my rooms?"
As they come back, the hour for the wedding approaches, and Lillyston says to Owen "How I wish De Vayne were here!" "But he is in Florence, is he not?" says Owen. They have hardly spoken when a carriage with a coronet on the panels dashes up to the Lion Inn; a young man alights, hands out a lady, and enters the inn. "Surely that must be De Vayne himself," says Suton running forward.
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