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A man of resolution may give way to the overpowering sensations of the moment. His bodily faculties may fail him; but his mind will not fail. As in every really superior intelligence, my forces collected for the emergency. While the officers ran to bring me water, to search for the eau-de vie which they had in a cupboard, I astonished them all by rising up, pale, but with full command of myself.
On the first occasion I went home walking as in a mist, with a single rouble left in my pocket, and an interval of ten clear days confronting me before next pay-day. Yet, what think you, dearest? The very next day, before going to work, I called at a French perfumer's, and spent my whole remaining capital on some eau-de- Cologne and scented soap! Why I did so I do not know.
Jolyon stood in the narrow hall at Broadstairs, inhaling that odour of oilcloth and herrings which permeates all respectable seaside lodging-houses. On a chair a shiny leather chair, displaying its horsehair through a hole in the top left-hand corner stood a black despatch case. This he was filling with papers, with the Times, and a bottle of Eau-de Cologne.
When Mrs Rendell entered the room, and recognised the odours of eau-de- Cologne, menthol, and sal volatile, her first thought was of poor brokenhearted Maud; but, behold! it was Maud who was playing doctor, and buxom Nan who lay prone upon the bed. A few inquiries and expressions of sympathy were spoken, and then a gesture bade Maud follow into another room.
She had plenty of flowers in her bay window conservatory, besides a tiny crystal fountain, that leaped and sparkled to the astounding altitude of some eighteen inches, and which, on festive occasions, ran Florida-water or Eau-de- Cologne. In addition to these, she required, to my mind, a bird to complete the effect of the whole. A bird she, accordingly, should have.
Jolyon stood in the narrow hall at Broadstairs, inhaling that odour of oilcloth and herrings which permeates all respectable seaside lodging-houses. On a chair a shiny leather chair, displaying its horsehair through a hole in the top left-hand corner stood a black despatch case. This he was filling with papers, with the Times, and a bottle of Eau-de Cologne.
Isabel drenched her own handkerchief in Mrs. Bendish's eau-de cologne and gave it him, dripping wet. "Take this, it will do you good." "Thank you" said Lawrence, exhausted and subdued. Becoming gradually rather more composed, he raised his eyes again. "What must you think of me? It is beyond apology. Will you ever forgive me?" "There's nothing to forgive: I'm not hurt."
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