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Updated: June 5, 2025
You've banished him beyond your horizon. His doings now can be no concern of yours. If he chose to elope with the fat woman in a freak museum, why shouldn't he? What would it have to do with you?" "Only this," said Doria, coming back to the table corner but not sitting on it. "It would make Jaffery's declaration to me all the more insulting." "'Having known me to decline'?" I quoted. "Precisely."
Hence her complicated attitude towards life, and hence her entertaining talk at the dinner table. I enjoyed myself. So, I think, did everybody. When the ladies rose, Jaffery, who was nearest the door, opened it for them to pass out, Barbara, the last, lingered for a second or two and laid her hand on Jaffery's arm and looked up at him out of her teasing blue eyes.
And when, at ten o'clock in the evening, just as we were beginning to awake from the nightmare of the day, and to desire sprightly conversation, our host and hostess fell into a lethargy, and staggered off to slumber, we beguiled the hour before bedtime with talk of Jaffery's homecoming. At last we escaped and took the good train south. The Bolderos had already returned to London.
Under Jaffery's questioning he informed us for he was not a spontaneously communicative man that he now had a very good command: steamship Vesta, one thousand five hundred tons, somewhat old, but sea-worthy, warranted to take more cargo than any vessel of her size he had ever set eyes on. "And when do you sail?" asked Jaffery. "To-morrow at daybreak. They're finishing loading her up now."
The next thing I saw was the small blue patch somewhere in the upland region of Jaffery's beard. Then boomed forth from him idiotic exclamations which are not worth chronicling, accompanied by a duet of bass and treble laughter. Then he set her astride of his bull neck and pitched his soft felt hat to Adrian to hold. "Hang on to my hair. It won't hurt," he commanded.
With Susan and Barbara and Doria he knows he's safe spared the worst so he yields and they pick him up look at him and stand him on his head and do whatever they darn well like to him; but with Liosha he knows he isn't safe. You see," Adrian continued, after having lit a cigarette, "Jaffery's an honourable old chap, in his way.
But the flip of a girl he professed so much to despise came along and reduced him to a condition of helpless introspection. I cannot say that it lasted very long. Psychology and metaphysics and æsthetics lay outside Jaffery's sphere.
"In plain words," said Jaffery, "it's G.P. General Paralysis of the Insane." "That's what I fear," said I. "And you?" He turned to Barbara. "I too. Hilary has told you the truth." "But Doria! Good God! Doria! It will kill her!" Barbara put her little gloved fingers on Jaffery's great raw hand. Only at weddings or at the North Pole would Jaffery wear gloves. "We know nothing about it as yet.
"And how's everybody?" Jaffery's voice reverberated through the subway. "Barbara and the fairy grasshopper? I'm longing to see 'em. That's the pull of being free. You can adopt other fellows' wives and families. I'm coming home now to my adopted wife and daughter. How are they?" I answered explicitly. He boomed on till we reached the station yard, where his eye fell upon a familiar object.
"The sheet seemed to be of no value, so we destroyed it with a lot of other unimportant papers." "And I came across further evidence," said Jaffery, "of his intention to rename the novel." Doria's anger died away. She looked past us into the void. "I should like to have had Adrian's last words," she whispered. Then bringing herself back to earth, she begged Jaffery's pardon very touchingly.
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