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Updated: June 3, 2025
That is the only person I ever hated from the first sight, hated and dreaded in a way I could not possibly explain." "But why do you mention him?" asked Waymark. "What is his name?" "His name is Edwards," returned Ida, pronouncing it as if the sound excited loathing in her. "I had been living in this way for nearly half-a-year, when one day this man called and came up to my sitting-room.
Waymark, looking closer in alarm, saw that the handkerchief which the poor fellow was holding to his mouth was covered with blood. "We must have a cab," he exclaimed. "It is impossible for you to walk in this state." Julian resisted, with assurances that the worst was over for the time. If Waymark would give the support of his arm, he would get on quite well.
On a Sunday afternoon in October, when Abraham Woodstock had lain in his grave for three months, Waymark met Julian Casti by appointment in Sloane Square, and they set forth together on a journey to Peckham. They were going thither by invitation, and, to judge from the laughter which accompanied their talk, their visit was likely to afford them entertainment.
I will walk about the streets till morning." "And you tell me that Ida Starr is in custody?" "She is. My wife accuses her of stealing several things." "And you believe this?" asked Waymark, under his voice, whilst his thoughts pictured Ida's poverty, of which he had known nothing, and led him through a long train of miserable sequences. "I don't know. I can't say.
"Well, yes," said Waymark, "she has a tolerable face; seems to me a long way too good to be teaching those unlicked cubs. The dragon wasn't too civil to her, though it was the first day." "Not civil to her? If I were present, and heard that woman breathe the slight eat incivility, I'd " He broke off in the midst of his vehemence with a startled look towards the door. "Mr.
Harriet went on to ask many questions, all of which he answered as satisfactorily as he could, and in the end she expressed herself quite willing to renew Ida's acquaintance. Waymark had watched her face as closely as she did his, and he was able to read pretty accurately what was passing in her mind. Curiosity, it was clear, was her main incentive.
Doubts and suspicions which would ordinarily never have occurred to him filled his mind. He was again quite silent till his office was reached. Waymark had not been. They walked upstairs together, and Mr. Woodstock asked his companion to be seated. He himself stood, and began to poke the fire. "Do you live in Chelsea still?" he suddenly asked. "Yes."
I shall fall into darker and darker depths of weakness and ruin, always conscious of what I am losing. What will be the end?" "What the end will be, under the present circumstances, is only too clear to me. But it might easily be averted?" "How? Give me some practical advice, Waymark! Let us talk of the matter freely. Tell me what you would do!" Waymark thought for a moment.
He begged Waymark to let him remain where he was through the night, declaring that in any case sleep was impossible for him, and that perhaps he might try to pass the hours in reading. They talked together for a time; then Waymark lay down on the bed and shortly slept. He was to be at the police court in the morning. Julian would go to the hospital as usual. "Shall you call at home on your way?"
Ida concluded at once that he came with some hostile purpose, and the name of Waymark was an incentive to her numbed faculties. "How can you be a friend of Osmond Waymark?" she asked, with cold suspicion. "Didn't he ever mention my name to you?" "Never." Waymark had in truth always kept silence with Ida about his occupations, though he had spoken so freely of them to Maud.
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