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And the Rector, watching the door for the sight of his enemy, also thought: 'I'm not thinking of myself I'm satisfied that I did right I'm Rector of this parish it's the principle. The spaniel John gave three short barks, one for each of the persons who entered the room. They were Mrs. Pendyce, Mr. Paramor, and Gregory Vigil. "Where's George?" asked the Squire, but no one answered him.
"Well," said Mr. Paramor with a laugh, "there is nothing like an idealist for-making hay! You once told me, if I remember, that marriage was sacred to you!" "Those are my own private feelings, Paramor. But here the mischief's done already. It is a sham, a hateful sham, and it ought to come to an end!" "That's all very well," replied Mr.
There was at that moment something a little similar in the eyes of these two very different men, a look of kindred honesty and aspiration. Gregory spoke at last. "It's a painful subject to me." Mr. Paramor drew a face on his blotting-paper. "I have come," went on Gregory, "about a divorce for my ward." "Mrs. Jaspar Bellew?" "Yes; her position is intolerable." Mr. Paramor gave him a searching look.
Just as round the hereditary principle are grouped the State, the Church, Law, and Philanthropy, so round the dining-table at Worsted Skeynes sat the Squire, the Rector, Mr. Paramor, and Gregory Vigil, and none of them wished to be the first to speak. At last Mr. Paramor, taking from his pocket Bellew's note and George's answer, which were pinned in strange alliance, returned them to the Squire.
It did not occur to him that his system was in any way responsible for George's conduct. He had said to Mr. Paramor: "I never had a system; I'm no believer in systems." He had brought him up simply as a gentleman.
The Squire's irritable glance swept over the unfenced space to right and left, and the thought flashed through his mind: 'Suppose I were to give the beggar those gates, would he would he let me enclose the Scotton again? He looked at that square, bearded man, and the infallible instinct, christened so wickedly by Mr. Paramor, guided him.
Paramor drew out a kind of dagger with which he had stabbed some papers to his desk, and took a letter from the bundle. "Yes," he said, "it's looking very nice. You'd like to see this, I expect." "Bellew v. Bellew and Pendyce" was written at the top. Mrs. Pendyce stared at those words as though fascinated by their beauty; it was long before she got beyond them.
"Surely, where both parties are anxious, and there's no opposition, it can't be difficult." "Good Lord!" said Mr. Paramor. "But I've seen Bellew; I saw him yesterday. I'm sure I can get him to admit anything you want!" Mr. Paramor drew his breath between his teeth. "Did you ever," he said drily, "hear of what's called collusion?" Gregory got up and paced the room.
The state of the marriage laws is only a symptom. It's this disease, this grudging narrow spirit in men, that makes such laws necessary. Unlovely men, unlovely laws what can you expect?" "I will never believe that we shall be content to go on living in a slough of of " "Provincialism!" said Mr. Paramor.
The words his uncle had said to him on hearing his engagement had been these: "Dennant! Are those the Holm Oaks Dennants? She was a Penguin." No one who knew Mr. Paramor connected him with snobbery, but there had been an "Ah! that 's right; this is due to us" tone about the saying. Shelton hunted for the name of Baltimore: "Charles Penguin, fifth Baron Baltimore.
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