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Updated: June 23, 2025
Braithwaite uttered himself bluntly as he would have done in his own Headquarters' mess this despite the fact that it was Tabs whom his host had been addressing. In his astonishment, Sir Tobias nearly gagged himself with the soup that he was on the point of swallowing. He blinked mildly at this confident young man, his breast ablaze with decorations, whom he had not invited.
"Well, I must say you don't sound very nice." It was a woman's amused voice. "Even at this distance, you make me almost afraid. I do hope you haven't been like that all night." Tabs made his tones more smiling. "I'm sorry if I don't sound sufficiently pleasant. But who are you?" "Well, who do you think?" There was a snatch of laughter. "I'm Maisie; I mean Mrs. Lockwood.
That was why, without warning either of you, I You see, I had to find out. And then, when he met you face to face he he lied." "Hush, Terry." "But he did. He lied." She had withdrawn her hands from his and sat back eyeing him with a clear look of challenge. Tabs was at a loss to explain her change of attitude. Yesterday she had been all for defending this man.
Noble notions about human equality don't work in practice. He's what he is fine of his kind. He's finer than you or I, Tabs, only he's not our sort. He couldn't ever become our sort. If I were as big as he is, I might not mind. But I'm little and mean; I care so much for caste. And yet, in spite of that, I want to marry him. I oughtn't to tell you, of all people.
He was inexpert and had bungled. He had bungled because, while assuming the rôle of roguery, he had remained at heart an honest man. Now that he was caught, he took the exposure of his dishonesty too seriously. Tabs had almost forgotten that he had been the last to speak, when Adair repeated his exact words, "Except Phyllis!" And then, "Poor kid! She, too, is unhappy."
Was she afraid because he was too old for her? "You don't need to talk about it unless you like," he said kindly. "Whatever you do or have done is right." "That's not true." She wrung her hands. "Oh, Tabs, you make it so hard for me when you're generous. I haven't done right. I'm in a tangle. I don't know whether what I'll do in the future will be any better."
"I'm not," said Tabs. "Why should I be? I myself supposed, that I was engaged to her last night." It was Braithwaite who showed amazement. "You! Last night!" "Yes, I, last night." Braithwaite set down his knife and fork. The bleak look came into his eyes that had given him the nickname at the Front of "Steely Jack."
What had she thought? How much had she seen and heard? How long had she been standing there? Tabs attempted to bridge the awkward silence. "I drove down from London." Then he added, "That was last night." None of them had stirred. Lady Dawn advanced from the window into the pool of lamplight. "I think I know what you thought that something was wrong. It was. I nearly fainted.
All he did know was that a brass-hatted angel with red tabs on its collar stood at the gate of a little paradise of comradeship, and forbade further knowledge of its pleasant places. He pursed his lips and got to his feet, sick with a sense of his loss. He was of the people, apart. He was a Clydeside worker and they were the quality.
His frank gray eyes were amused and friendly. "Upon my word, I haven't any game. I'm like yourself just paying a visit." Tabs shook his head and gazed at him fixedly. "It won't do; you know that. You're a gentleman. Gentlemen don't get into unprotected women's houses by your kind of methods." "They don't. That's a fact." He laughed carelessly.
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