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Updated: June 16, 2025
"Aha! to see my niece? and to make her in as great a hurry to be married as you are yourself? Suppose I say, No? you would see her perhaps without my permission?" "Decidedly!" "How delightfully frank! How exquisitely English! You shall see her, Mr. Vendale, on certain days, which we will appoint together. What next?"
"But I commenced as a she-cat." "Ah! But like the cat in the fairy-story, good Madame Dor," says Vendale, saluting her cheek, "you were a true woman. And, being a true woman, the sympathy of your heart was with true love." "I don't wish to deprive Madame Dor of her share in the embraces that are going on," Mr.
"Blessings on you as broad as your back, Harthover," says she she didn't call him Sir John, but only Harthover, for that is the fashion in the North country "and welcome into Vendale: but you're no hunting the fox this time of the year?" "I am hunting, and strange game too," said he. "Blessings on your heart, and what makes you look so sad the morn?"
And now it occurred to Vendale for the first time that something curious in the man, which he had never before been able to define, was definable as a certain subtle essence of mockery that eluded touch or analysis.
Why should he turn the pillow, if not to seek those papers that are in your breast? Awake!" And yet he slept, and wandered off into other dreams. Watchful and still, with his elbow on the table, and his head upon that hand, his companion at length said: "Vendale! We are called. Past Four!" Then, opening his eyes, he saw, turned sideways on him, the filmy face of Obenreizer.
Accept, also, my written guarantee." He rose; seated himself at a writing-desk at a side-table, wrote a few lines, and presented them to Vendale with a low bow. The engagement was perfectly explicit, and was signed and dated with scrupulous care. "Are you satisfied with your guarantee?" "I am satisfied." "Charmed to hear it, I am sure.
"Have you done well in the country? Are you better?" A thousand thanks. Obenreizer had done admirably well; Obenreizer was infinitely better. And now, what news? Any letter from Neuchatel? "A very strange letter," answered Vendale. "The matter has taken a new turn, and the letter insists without excepting anybody on my keeping our next proceedings a profound secret."
" From my own knife," said Obenreizer, touching what must have been an ugly gash at the time of its infliction. "From your own knife," assented the notary, "and in trying to save him. Good, good, good. That was very good. Vendale. Yes. I have several times, lately, thought it droll that I should once have had a client of that name." "But the world, sir," returned Obenreizer, "is so small!"
Vendale, on the other hand, always contending generously against his first vague mistrust, now felt bound to contend against it more than ever: reminding himself, "He is Marguerite's guardian. We are on perfectly friendly terms; he is my companion of his own proposal, and can have no interested motive in sharing this undesirable journey."
"I have a whole one in my room. Shall I fetch it?" "Do so." His room was very near, and he was absent for but a few seconds. Coming back with the candle in his hand, he kneeled down on the hearth and lighted it. As he blew with his breath a charred billet into flame for the purpose, Vendale, looking down at him, saw that his lips were white and not easy of control.
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