Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 17, 2025
She crossed the room towards him with outstretched hands. Aynesworth, who was standing a little on one side, watched their meeting with intense, though covert interest. She had pushed back her veil, her head was a little upraised in a mute gesture of appeal. She was pale to the lips, but her eyes were soft with hidden tears. Wingrave stood stonily silent, like a figure of fate.
"I thought you were friends," Wingrave remarked. "Yes, we are," Lady Ruth assented, "the sort of friendship you men don't know much about. You see a good deal of her, don't you?" Wingrave raised his head and looked at Lady Ruth contemplatively. "Why do you ask me that?" he asked. "Curiosity!" "I do," he remarked; "you should be grateful to her." "Why?" "It may save you a similar infliction."
You will scarcely find a better opportunity." Aynesworth rose at once. Wingrave in a few moments also left his seat, but proceeded in the opposite direction. He made his way into the purser's room, and carefully closed the door behind him. Mrs. Travers greeted Aynesworth without enthusiasm. Her eyes were resting upon the empty place which Wingrave had just vacated.
No man is strong enough to carry even a single one of his fellows upon his shoulders. Charity is the most illogical and pernicious of all weaknesses." "Now you are laughing at me," she declared. "I mean men like that Mr. Wingrave, the American who has come to England to spend all his millions. I have just been reading about him," she added, pointing to an illustrated paper on the table.
He fished once more in the trout streams; he threw away his stick, and tramped or rode with Juliet across the moors. At night time she sang or played with the windows open, Wingrave himself out of sight under the cedar trees, whose perfume filled with aromatic sweetness the still night air. Piles of letters came every day, which he left unopened upon his study table.
She had seen it delivered, and so on. And all the time, I sat within a few feet of Wingrave, and I knew that in the black box before him were burning love letters from this woman, to the man whose code of honor would ever have protected her husband from disgrace; and I knew that I was listening to the thing which you, Aynesworth, and many of your fellow story writers, have so wisely and so ignorantly dilated upon the vengeance of a woman denied.
Old Johnny there waiting to see me, no end of a swell, Phillson, the uptown lawyer. He went straight for me. "'Been dealing in Hardwells? he asked. "I nodded. "'Short, eh? "'Six hundred shares, I answered. There was no harm in telling him for the Street knew well enough. "'Bad job, he said. 'How much does Wingrave want? "'Shares at par, I answered.
"Against the two of you," Wingrave remarked, "I am, of course, powerless. After all, it is no concern of mine. I shall leave you, Pengarth, to make such arrangements as Miss Lundy desires!" He rose to his feet. Juliet now was pale. She dashed the tears from her eyes and looked at him in amazement mingled with something which was almost like despair.
"You must own for yourself that this case is exceptional. Let us go down to the Vicarage and inquire about it." "I shall do nothing of the sort," Wingrave answered. "Nor will you! Do you see the spray coming over the cliffs there? The sea must be worth watching." Aynesworth walked by his side in silence. He dared not trust himself to speak.
Did you see what a delicate face she had, and how nicely she spoke? You wouldn't have her sent out as a servant, would you?" Wingrave looked at his companion ominously. "You have a strange idea of the duties of a landlord," he remarked. "Do you seriously suppose that I am responsible for the future of every brat who grows up on this estate?" "Of course not!" Aynesworth answered.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking