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Updated: June 28, 2025
Falloden, with his own remorse, and his own catastrophe to think over, was called on to put it aside, to think for and help his father. He had no moral equipment no trained character equal to the task. But mercifully for them both, his pride came into play; his shrewd intelligence also, and his affection for his father the most penetrable spot so far in his hard and splendid youth.
I am perfectly free, and I have given you no right to arrange my life for me. So now let us understand each other." Falloden shrugged his shoulders. "You have indeed made it perfectly plain!" "I meant to," said Constance vehemently. But they could not keep their eyes from each other. Both were pale.
"On the contrary, I am ready to agree to it," said Falloden briefly. "But there will be a lot of legal business, won't there?" "Certainly. But it can all be put through in time. And directly it was known that you would sell, the whole situation would be changed." "We might save something out of the wreck?" said Falloden, looking up. The lawyer nodded gravely. "Something certainly."
His eyes almost disappeared behind his spectacles, then emerged sparkling. He wrote some figures on a piece of paper, and handed it to Douglas. Douglas laughed drily, and returned it. "You will hardly expect me to give my father the trouble of considering that." Herr Schwarz puffed and blowed. He got up, and walked about excitedly. He lit a cigarette, Falloden politely helping him.
Falloden needn't be a snob, because he's got everything that snobs want and he's clever besides. But it is snobbish all the same to be so proud and stand-off, to like to make other people feel small and miserable, just that you may feel big." "Go away!" said Constance, and taking up one of her pillows, she threw it neatly at Nora, who dodged it with equal skill.
"When he very nearly settled you, Jim," laughed a Wykehamist, a powerfully built fellow, who had just got his Blue for the Eleven, had been supping freely and was in a mood for any riotous deed. "That was nothing," said Meyrick "but this can't be stood!" And he pointed to the sheet that Falloden, who was standing in the centre of the group, was at the moment reading.
"What lunacy made me do it?" thought Falloden, standing still at the end of the terrace which fronted the view. He and Radowitz had been nearly three weeks together. Had he been of the slightest service or consolation to Radowitz during that time? He doubted it. That incalculable impulse which had made him propose himself as Otto's companion for the winter still persisted indeed.
Falloden and Constance corresponded about them, in letters that anybody might have read, which had behind them, nevertheless, a secret and growing force of emotion. Even Mrs. Mulholland, who was rapidly endearing herself both to Constance and Radowitz, could only guess at what was going on, and when she did guess, held her tongue.
A certain Magdalen athlete was at the moment her particular friend, and she had brought down a sister to keep her in countenance. She had no intention, indeed, of making scandal, and Douglas Falloden was a convenient string to her bow. Falloden was quite aware of the situation. But it suited him to dance with Mrs. Glendower, and to dance with her a great deal.
Then they turned their horses towards the keeper's cottage, and the sun fell lower in the west. "Mr. Falloden," said Constance presently, "I want you to promise me something." "Ask me," he said eagerly. "I want you to give up ragging Otto Radowitz!" His countenance changed. "Who has been talking to you?" "That doesn't matter. It is unworthy of you. Give it up." Falloden laughed with good humour.
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