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Updated: June 17, 2025
Raisky's patience had to suffer a hard trial in Vera's indifference. His courage failed him, and he fell into a dull, fruitless boredom. In this idle mood he drew village scenes in his sketch album he had already sketched nearly every aspect of the Volga to be seen from the house or the cliff and he made notes in his note books.
So that in spite of Vera's definite proclamation that there should be no Christmassing in her house that year, Christmassing there emphatically was. Impossible to deny anything to Mr Bittenger! Mr Bittenger wanted holly, the gardener supplied it. Mr Bittenger wanted mistletoe, a bunch of it was brought home by Stephen in the dogcart.
What woman, with so signal a revenge in her power, would forego the delight of wreaking it upon the woman who had taken from her the man she loved? Helen knew that in Vera's place she would show no mercy to her rival.
She was fond of her father, and she had intended to go home for the week, but Patricia had declared that they would stay at Glenmore, and Arabella was no match for Patricia, so it was settled that they would remain at the school. The week at Vera's home opened charmingly. Mrs. Vane had given the week over to Vera and her three little guests.
No authority in heaven or earth weighed with him, he despised science as it had hitherto developed, and made no distinction between virtue and crime. If he thought that he would soon be able to triumph over Vera's convictions he was mistaken.
Vera's hand went up to his face, stroking, caressing. The suppressed misery of his voice was almost more than she could bear. "How you suffered!" she whispered. He was silent for a moment or two, controlling himself. "It's over now," he said then. "Thank God, it's a long time over! She died less than a year after when Jack and Robin were born.
"No, indeed I don't," I answered. "Then there's a picture. You know that awful painting of a mid-Victorian ancestor of Vera's a horrible old man with bushy eyebrows and a high, rather dirty-looking stock?" "Yes, I know it," I said. "It's one of those pictures with eyes that follow you all round the room. At least it has now. I usen't to notice them.
They would soon have a position, especially if, as seemed probable, Canon Farlow did get the first vacant bishopric. Jimmy had not much fear as to what Vera's answer would be. They had got to know one another very well in that fortnight at Drylands, and much of her almost prim reserve had already disappeared.
I drank the appointed number of glasses of Narzan water, and, after sauntering a few times about the long linden avenue, I met Vera's husband, who had just arrived from Pyatigorsk. He took my arm and we went to the restaurant for breakfast. He was dreadfully uneasy about his wife. "What a terrible fright she had last night," he said.
Put your arms round my neck, Muriel, and I'll carry you as well as I can." Almost sinking under her cousin's weight, Patty staggered along till she reached the jagged, seaweed-covered rock, which she hoped might afford them a temporary place of security. Groaning with pain, Muriel managed with Patty's help to drag herself slowly to the summit. "Why did I come?" she said. "It was all Vera's fault.
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