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Dresses were left at Copsley for dining and sleeping there upon occasion, and poor Danvers, despairing over the riddle of her mistress, was condemned to the melancholy descent. 'It's my belief, she confided to Lady Dunstane's maid Bartlett, 'she'll hate men all her life after that Mr. Dacier.
This low rumour, or malaria, began blowing in the winter, and did not travel fast; for strangely, there was hardly a breath of it in the atmosphere of Dacier, none in Diana's. It rose from groups not so rapidly and largely mixing, and less quick to kindle; whose crazy sincereness battened on the smallest morsel of fact and collected the fictitious by slow absorption.
And besides again, I burn to make a last brave appearance. I have not outraged the world, dear Emmy, whatever certain creatures in it may fancy. She had come out of her dejectedness with a shrewder view of Dacier; equally painful, for it killed her romance, and changed the garden of their companionship in imagination to a waste.
You did not name it as a secret. I did not imagine it to be a secret of immense, immediate importance. 'But what? shouted Dacier, stiffening. He wanted her positive meaning, as she perceived, having hoped that it was generally taken and current, and the shock to him over. 'I had... I had not a suspicion of doing harm, Percy. 'But what harm have you done? No riddles!
Dresses were left at Copsley for dining and sleeping there upon occasion, and poor Danvers, despairing over the riddle of her mistress, was condemned to the melancholy descent. 'It's my belief, she confided to Lady Dunstane's maid Bartlett, 'she'll hate men all her life after that Mr. Dacier.
He reflected wonderingly on the husband, as he had previously done, and came again to the conclusion that it was a poor creature, abjectly jealous of a wife, he could neither master, nor equal, nor attract. And thinking of jealousy, Dacier felt none; none of individuals, only of facts: her marriage, her bondage. Her condemnation to perpetual widowhood angered him, as at an unrighteous decree.
'I fear it is good-bye for me, Dacier said to her, as he was about to step into the carriage with the Esquarts. 'If you have not better news of your uncle, it must be, she replied, and gave him her hand promptly and formally, hardly diverting her eyes from Lady Esquart to grace the temporary gift with a look.
I've always had the good habit of going to church, Dacier. Now 's the time for remembering them. Ah, my dear fellow, I 'm not a parson. It would have been better for me if I had been. And for you too! his look added plainly. He longed to preach; he was impelled to chatter. Redworth reported the patient perfectly quiet, breathing calmly. 'Laudanum? asked Sir Lukin.
Take a warning from me. I've had my lesson. Dacier soon after talked of going. The hope of seeing Diana had abandoned him, the desire was almost extinct. Sir Lukin could not let him go.
'No; the fault is mine when I am degraded. I trust you: there's the error. The trial for Dacier was the sight of her quick-lifting; bosom under the mask of cold language: an attraction and repulsion in union; a delirium to any lover impelled to trample on weak defences. But the evident pain he inflicted moved his pity, which helped to restore his conception of the beauty of her character.
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