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Updated: May 21, 2025
Plinth, who, in turn, appeared less sure of herself than usual. "Why, of of the book," she explained. "What book?" snapped Miss Van Vluyck, almost as sharply as Osric Dane. Mrs. Ballinger looked at Laura Glyde, whose eyes were interrogatively fixed on Mrs. Leveret. The fact of being deferred to was so new to the latter that it filled her with an insane temerity.
Miss Van Vluyck thoughtfully rubbed her spectacles. "What surprised me most," she continued, "was that Fanny Roby should be so up on Xingu." This frank admission threw a slight chill on the company, but Mrs. Ballinger said with an air of indulgent irony: "Mrs.
From this region, after some difficulty and delay, the parlour-maid produced the W-Z volume of an Encyclopaedia and, in deference to the fact that the demand for it had come from Miss Van Vluyck, laid the ponderous tome before her.
"It's a river." "Yes: in Brazil. Isn't that where she's been living?" "Who? Fanny Roby? Oh, but you must be mistaken. You've been reading the wrong thing," Mrs. Ballinger exclaimed, leaning over her to seize the volume. "It's the only XINGU in the Encyclopaedia; and she HAS been living in Brazil," Miss Van Vluyck persisted. "Yes: her brother has a consulship there," Mrs.
Plinth hastily interposed: "I beg you won't read it aloud if there's anything offensive." Miss Van Vluyck, without answering, continued her silent scrutiny. "Well, what is it?" exclaimed Laura Glyde excitedly. "Do tell us!" urged Mrs. Leveret, feeling that she would have something awful to tell her sister. Miss Van Vluyck pushed the volume aside and turned slowly toward the expectant group.
"Yes," said Miss Van Vluyck, with a sudden resolve to carry the war into the enemy's camp. "We are so anxious to know the exact purpose you had in mind in writing your wonderful book." "You will find," Mrs. Plinth interposed, "that we are not superficial readers."
The sting that this remark was vaguely felt to conceal was almost neutralised by the satisfaction of being addressed in such technical language. "Ah, the cerebellum," said Miss Van Vluyck complacently. "The club took a course in psychology last winter." "Which psychology?" asked Osric Dane.
It's very long." "I can't imagine," said Miss Van Vluyck, "grudging the time given to such a subject." "And deep in places," Mrs. "I never skip," said Mrs. Plinth dogmatically. "Ah, it's dangerous to, in Xingu. Even at the start there are places where one can't. One must just wade through." "I should hardly call it wading," said Mrs. Ballinger sarcastically. Mrs. Roby sent her a look of interest.
Roby alone had abstained from profiting by the opportunity thus offered; but it was now openly recognised that, as a member of the Lunch Club, Mrs. Roby was a failure. "It all comes," as Miss Van Vluyck put it, "of accepting a woman on a man's estimation." Mrs.
Plinth, Mrs. Ballinger and Miss Van Vluyck. "The Wings of Death" had, in fact, at Miss Van Vluyck's suggestion, been chosen as the subject of discussion at the last club meeting, and each member had thus been enabled to express her own opinion or to appropriate whatever sounded well in the comments of the others. Mrs.
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