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"Slap-up wines, and the right sort of company. Must have been an eye-opener for you." Arnold nodded. He was not in the least anxious to discuss the events of the previous evening with Mr. Jarvis. The latter, however, came a little nearer to him. He took off his gold-rimmed spectacles and wiped them carefully. "Now I should like to know," he said, "exactly how Mrs. Weatherley struck you?"
Shakleton, the son and successor of the old solicitor who had played his part in the finding of Christopher, the other was a stout, complacent man with gold-rimmed glasses and scanty sandy hair, and all three of the occupants of the room looked towards the door as if waiting for and expecting him.
"My gootness, no I was downstairs looking at Holbrook's sdained class, and I shoost thought I'd sdep up a minute and take a beep at your vork." "Much obliged, I'm sure especially as I assume that you don't want any of it." Try as he would, Stanwell could not keep a note of eagerness from his voice. Mr. Shepson caught the note, and eyed him shrewdly through gold-rimmed glasses.
Her features were rather too big for her small face a big nose not finely made, a wide thin-lipped mouth, and a long chin and her eyes, looking very straight out through gold-rimmed spectacles, had a penetrating brightness about them that was a little formidable. It was not what one would call a good-natured face. But good-natured sentimentality was the last thing Rose was looking for.
And he broke open the seal of the missive presented to him, and adjusted his gold-rimmed spectacles to read its contents. "Eh what's this what's this? God bless my soul!" And his round eyes protruded in astonishment and dismay "Look here! I say really! You'd better read this, my lord! God bless my soul! She's bolted!" Roxmouth started violently. Mr.
"No doubt you have a definite sum in your mind?" "Most certainly. My lawyers tell me you ought to refund the interest as well, but Winifred may content herself with the principal. You must hand her half a million dollars!" He sprang to his feet, livid. "Woman," he yelled, "you are crazy!" Mrs. Carshaw focused him again through her gold-rimmed eye-glasses. "Crazy?" she questioned calmly.
All I want of you is to keep straight on after me right through those dry woods, there. Try to keep your intervals and alignment; don't yell until you sight the enemy, don't lose your heads, trust your officers. Where they go you are safest." He dropped his eye-glasses into his slashed pocket, drew out and put on a pair of gold-rimmed spectacles.
She made a little grimace and turned away, holding out her hand to a new arrival a tall, broad-shouldered man, with a strong, cold face and keen, grey eyes, aggressive even behind his gold-rimmed spectacles. There was a queer change in his face as his eyes met Pamela's. He seemed suddenly to become more human. His pleasure at seeing her was certainly more than the usual transatlantic politeness.
He was undoubtedly intellectual, but the eyes that regarded through big, gold-rimmed spectacles, the romantic beauty, the prominent brow and the distinguished air of the sweet-voiced youth before him, wore a not only thoughtful, but something more a distinctly shrewd and practical expression. In them was no awe of the bare mention of "original poetry."
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