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Updated: June 26, 2025
As Braybrooke knew everyone, he, of course, knew Garstin, and he wondered now why he had not recognized his back at Manchester Square. Perhaps his mind had been too engrossed with Fanny Cronin and the outrage at Claridge's. He only knew the painter slightly, just sufficiently to dislike him very much.
The chairs were of light blue embroidered with thick, heavy gold, and all this bearing the stamp of antiquity was a thousand times more interesting than mere modern splendor. I sat at dinner between Lord Braybrooke and Sir John Boileau, and found them both very agreeable. The dining-room is as magnificent as the other apartments.
But the allusions to old age, to disturbing influences, the decision not to go again to the Bella Napoli these seemed to hint an intention to return to a former state of being, to abandon a new path of life. And he remembered a conversation with Francis Braybrooke at the club, the interest it had roused in him.
"Well, why not?" said Braybrooke, almost with severity. "Why not?" "But his age!" The world's governess, who was older than Sir Seymour, though not a soul knew it, looked more severe. "His age would be in every way suitable to Adele Sellingworth's," he said firmly. "Oh, but " "Go on!" "I can't see an old man like Sir Seymour as her husband. Oh, no! It wouldn't do.
"I don't believe in promises, unless you break 'em. But it's just on the cards." "You are painting a blackmailer!" said Braybrooke, with an air of earnest interest. "How very original!" "Original! Why is it original to paint a blackmailer?" "Oh well, one doesn't often run across them. They they seem to keep so much to themselves." "I don't agree with you.
Braybrooke that!" said Craven. "And I shall be eternally grateful to him." His eyes met Lady Sellingworth's, and he immediately added, turning to Miss Van Tuyn: "I have to thank him for two delightful new friends if I may use that word." "Mr. Braybrooke is a great benefactor," said Miss Van Tuyn. "I wonder how this play is going to end."
"I'll come in a moment," he said. "If you're not busy we might have a talk. I shall like to hear how you fared with Adela Sellingworth." Craven begged him to come, and in a few minutes they were settled in two deep arm-chairs in a quiet corner, and Craven was telling of his first visit to Berkeley Square. "Wasn't I right?" said Braybrooke. "Could Adela Sellingworth ever be a back number?
He told me he was introduced to you at Adela Sellingworth's." "Oh yes, he was," said Miss Van Tuyn. And she said no more. "He was very enthusiastic about you," ventured Braybrooke, wondering how to interpret her silence. "Really!" "Yes. We belong to the same club, the St. James's. He entertained me for more than an hour with your praises."
He got up wearily, and as he made his way into the little vestry, he fancied that he heard behind him a sound as of some one tramping in sea-boots upon the rough church pavement. He looked round and saw the bland face of the clerk, who wore perpetually a little smile, like that of a successful public entertainer. That evening he wrote to Doctor Braybrooke.
And she never hinted it to me, although we talked over marriage only yesterday, when I gave her Bourget's views on it as expressed in his 'Physiologie de l'amour moderne. She never said one word. She never " But at this point Braybrooke felt that an interruption, however rude, was obligatory.
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