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Updated: June 19, 2025
"You mean," I interposed, "when the vital forces are beaten so low that the natural dread of ceasing to be, has no play? It has less play, I've noticed, in age than in youth, but for the same reason that it has when people are weakened by sickness." "Ah," said Wanhope, "that comparative indifference to death in the old, to whom it is so much nearer than it is to the young, is very suggestive.
Wanhope desisted with a provisional air, and Rulledge went and got Himself a sandwich from the lunch-table. "Well, upon my word!" said Minver. "I thought you had dined, Rulledge." Rulledge came back munching, and said to Wanhope, as he settled himself in his chair again: "Well, go on." "Why, that's all." The psychologist was silent, with Rulledge staring indignantly at him. "I suppose Mrs.
"Yes, I think he was, in this instance. But probably he had been consulted a good deal by Mrs. Ormond," said Wanhope. "The change that began to set her mind at rest about Ormond was his taking the personifications more seriously. Why, he began to ask, but always with a certain measure of joke in it, why shouldn't there be something in the personifications?
No one that I remember has attempted to trace such effects to their causes, and then back again from their causes, which would be much more important." "Yes, I dare say," Minver put in. "But if they all amount to the same thing in the end, what difference would it make?" "It would perhaps establish the identity of good and evil," Wanhope suggested.
"To leave Wanhope." More at his ease than Val, in spite of the disadvantage of his evening dress, Lawrence stood looking down at him with brilliant inexpressive eyes. "Is it your own idea that I stayed on at Wanhope to make love to Laura?" "If I answer that, you'll tell me that I'm meddling with what is none of my business, and this time you'll be right."
Wanhope looked at him with a smiling concern, such as a physician might feel in the symptoms of a peculiar case. "I wonder," he said absently, "how much of our impatience with a fact delayed is a survival of the childhood of the race, and how far it is the effect of conditions in which possession is the ideal!" Rulledge pushed back his chair, and walked away in dudgeon. "I'm a busy man myself.
What was going on under the surface at Wanhope, that Laura should turn as white as her handkerchief? He hurried on as if he had noticed nothing. "Bernard and I have been laying our heads together. Do you know what I'm going to do? Run you up to town to see the new Moore play at Hadow's." "Delightful!" Already Laura had recovered herself: her smile was as sweet as ever, and as serene.
But there are a lot of modern mechanical appliances, aren't there, that ought to make him fairly independent?" "He won't touch any of them." "Sick men have their whims. But can't you drag him out into the sun? He ought not to lie in that mausoleum of a hall." "He has never been in the garden in all our years at Wanhope." Lawrence took off his straw hat to fan himself with.
"It's part of your swindler to assume that you do know why. You ought to find out." Wanhope interposed abstractly, or as abstractly as he could: "The important thing would always be to find which of the lovers the confession, tacit or explicit, began with." "Acton ought to go round and collect human documents bearing on the question.
Of course, we must suppose a good portion of eternity to have elapsed." Wanhope continued, dreamily, with a deep breath almost equivalent to something so unscientific as a sigh: "Women are charming, and in nothing more than the perpetual challenge they form for us. They are born defying us to match ourselves with them."
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