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But neither of these expressions is quite so bad as that dreadful thing you always find in American books, and that lots of people have caught up especially palmists and manicures mentality. 'Yes, mentality's very depressing, said Vincy. 'I could get along nicely without it, I think.... I had a long letter from Aylmer today. He seemed unhappy. 'I had a few lines yesterday, said Edith.
There was an embarrassed pause. 'So this is really the last time I'm to see you for ages, Mrs Ottley? 'But aren't we all going to the theatre tomorrow? With you, I mean? Bruce said so. 'Oh yes. I mean the last time alone. Yes, I've got a box for The Moonshine Girl. Bruce said you'd come. Lady Everard and Vincy will be there. 'That will be fun I love that sort of show.
When she smiled she was pretty; she had a Rossetti mouth; that must have been what Vincy admired. Aylmer had no idea that Vincy did more than admire her very mildly. 'Won't you let me take you there? suggested Aylmer suddenly. He had nothing on earth to do, and thought it would fill up the time. 'Yes! I'll drive you there and show you the pictures. And then, wouldn't you come and have lunch?
These ribbons matched the rosettes presented in an equally haphazard way to every man. As Vincy observed, it gave one the rather ghastly impression that there was going to be a cotillion at once, on sight, before dinner; which was a little frightening. In reality it was merely so that the partners for the meal should be chosen by chance.
Vincy preferred playing was that of the generous host whom nobody criticises. In the earlier half of the day there was business to hinder any formal communication of an adverse resolve; in the later there was dinner, wine, whist, and general satisfaction.
Things have gone against him. I dare say he couldn't help it. I don't accuse him of any harm," said Mr. Vincy. He had always before been disposed to find the utmost fault with Lydgate. The shock to Rosamond was terrible. It seemed to her that no lot could be so cruelly hard as hers to have married a man who had become the centre of infamous suspicions.
It is demonstrable that the scratches are going everywhere impartially and it is only your candle which produces the flattering illusion of a concentric arrangement, its light falling with an exclusive optical selection. These things are a parable. The scratches are events, and the candle is the egoism of any person now absent of Miss Vincy, for example.
Vincy, with all his gentle manner, had in art an extraordinary taste for brutality and violence, and his rooms were covered with pictures by Futurists and Cubists, wild studies by wild men from Tahiti and a curious collection of savage ornaments and weapons. 'I don't quite see Vincy handling that double-edged Chinese sword, do you? said Aylmer, laughing.
But I don't mind so much about that I could get up a pretty row, if I chose." Mr. Bulstrode paused a little before he answered. "You pain me very much by speaking in this way, Vincy.
One day Vincy, alone on the beach with Edith, remarked that he wondered what had happened to Mavis. Edith told him that she had run away with a married man. 'Never, Edith! he exclaimed. 'Who would have thought it! It seems almost too good to be true! 'Don't say that, Vincy. 'But how did you hear it? You know everything. 'I heard it on good authority. I know it's true.
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