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Updated: May 11, 2025
But Lilith seemed not enthusiastic over that allurement, and finally, with some difficulty, she got rid of him; he grinning "from the teeth outwards," but consumed with fury nevertheless. Thus Swaynston. Nor would it have tended to allay his irritation could he have heard the object of it after his departure. "So you think he is worse than the post?" she said, with a laugh in her eyes.
Her "poodles," as Laurence had satirically defined them, were crowding around Swaynston at their head for a farewell pat. The last, in the shape of Holmes and another, had taken their sorrowful departure, and now a quick, furtive look seemed to cross the smiling serenity of her face, a shade of wistfulness, of disappointment. Thus one in the hurrying throng at the other side of the deck read it.
Lilith, catching the satirical twinkle in the other's eyes in the starlight, did not know which way to turn to control an overmastering impulse to laugh uninterruptedly for about five minutes, the cruel part of it being that the interrupter was Swaynston himself. The latter, a pursy individual, was holding out an arm somewhat in the attitude of a seal's flipper; but Lilith did not take it.
For one thing, there would be no post." "But no more there is here on board," she said, struggling with the laugh which the dry irrelevancy had brought to her lips. "No but there's Swaynston." This time the laugh came rippling outright, and through it came the sound of footsteps. "Oh, here you are, Miss Ormskirk. I've been looking for you everywhere. This is our dance."
"Do be very good-natured and excuse me," she said. "I don't want to dance any more to-night; the noise and heat have made my head ache." "Really, really? I'll find you a chair then, in some quiet corner," fussed Swaynston.
There's the doctor, and the fourth brass-button man er, I beg his pardon, the fourth 'officer, and Swaynston, and yourself, and Heaven knows how many more.
It might be all right for youngsters like Holmes or Swaynston, the licensed fool of the smoking room, or Dyson, to whose senile enthusiasm for the mazy rout we have heard allusion made the latter on the principle of "no fool like an old fool"; but not for him not for a man in the matured vigour of his physical and mental powers.
"What a row those women are making over there!" remarked Laurence, as peal after peal of feminine laughter went up from one of the groups above referred to. "That ass Swaynston, I suppose," growled the other. "Don't know what anybody can see funny about the fellow; he makes me sick. By the way, I haven't seen Miss Ormskirk on deck this morning." "That'll make Swaynston sick, won't it?
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