Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Since his name had been mentioned by Harold Logan on his dying bed, I had carefully debated whether or not to tell Easterton, who had let him his house, what I now knew about him; also whether to tell Sir Roland Challoner that Osborne and I had actually met Gastrell.
Challoner, at least, had scarce set foot upon the pavement when he was arrested by the sound of the withdrawal of an inner bolt; one followed another, rattling in their sockets; the key turned harshly in the lock; the door opened; and there appeared upon the threshold a man of a very stalwart figure in his shirt sleeves.
So not a word, mind; not a syllable even to Dulcie Challoner have I your promise?" Dulcie and I talked but little as we sped homeward through the darkness. She seemed depressed, I thought, though she assured me that she had thoroughly enjoyed herself and was feeling quite well.
She led him up to several small impressionist sketches in water-colour of Indian subjects, and stopped in admiration. "These are very good. I know the country, and they make you realise what it is like. There is genius here." "My son did them," said Challoner with dry amusement. "I can see their cleverness, but I'll admit that I think them rather a waste of time." "A shocking view.
Perhaps it's because I know the tarn that I like the picture so much; but it makes one realize the rugged grandeur and the melancholy charm of the place. That is genius! Who is the painter?" "My son," said the Colonel quietly. Millicent saw that he was troubled, though she could not imagine the reason. "I hardly know Captain Challoner, whom I met only once; but it is obvious that he has talent.
And the second night after that, when Challoner came early in the darkness, it happened that Nanette had her hair down in that same way; and Challoner, seeing her thus, with the lampglow shining in her eyes, felt that the world had taken a sudden swift turn under his feet that through all his years he had been working forward to this hour.
If she knew me at all, she knew me for what I am; a man of the people who glories in work and who has risen by it to a position somewhat unique in this city. I feel no lack of equality even with such a woman as Miss Challoner." A most unnecessary preamble, no doubt, and of doubtful efficacy in smoothing his way to a correct understanding with the deeply bereaved father.
As if answering to the constraint of a will quite outside his own, Mr. Challoner rose. Their heads were now more nearly on a level and Mr. Brotherson's voice remained low, as he proceeded, with quiet intensity. "There has been a time and it may exist yet, God knows when you thought me in some unknown and secret way the murderer of your daughter.
"I suppose it could be traversed by a properly equipped expedition?" Though Challoner's face was calm, Clarke inferred some anxiety to find his nephew, and answered cautiously: "It would be possible, but whether a party sent up could strike the others' trail is a different matter." "Very well," said Challoner; "we'll talk of it again. Go on with what you wished to say."
"And the other side? Was the strain equally virile?" he asked. "You shall judge," said Challoner. "You and Margaret Keith are the only people to whom I have ever spoken freely of these things. I am sure of your discretion and sympathy." He crossed the floor and, opening a cabinet, came back with a photograph, which he gave to his companion. "Dick's father.
Word Of The Day