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Updated: August 3, 2024
"That is the old Genoese," whispered Haim Ben Atar, "praying to his God, which he always does with particular devotion when he happens to have gone to bed the preceding evening rather in liquor. He has in his room a picture of Maria Buckra, before which he generally burns a taper, and on her account he will never permit me to enter his apartment.
Nothing had ever been said in the office as to his relations with Haim, though it was of course known that George no longer lodged with the factotum. Mr. Enwright, however, often had disconcerting intuitions concerning matters to which Mr. Orgreave and Lucas were utterly insensible. "Oh no!" George haltingly murmured. "Well, this is all very well, this is !" Mr.
Haim I thought we needed a new one, and bless me if he didn't take me straight out to buy one." The new doormat expressed Mrs. Haim's sole and characteristic criticism of the organism into which she had so unassumingly entered. Secure in the adoration of Mr.
Later, George said that he would lock up the office himself and leave the key with the housekeeper. "You can't miss the place," said Mr. Haim on leaving. "It's between the Workhouse and the Redcliffe."
She was very marvellous in the dark. Mr. Haim had not returned. "Well!" she muttered; and then dreamily: "What a funny little man Mr. Prince is, isn't he?" She spoke condescendingly. "Anyhow," said George, who had been respecting Mr. Alfred Prince, "anyhow, I'm glad you didn't go to the concert with him." "Why?" she asked, with apparent simplicity. "I adore the Proms. Don't you?"
He would not try to conceive what his existence would be without her, for it would be unendurable. Of this he was convinced. "Do you think he'll go talking about it?" George asked, meaning of course Mr. Haim. "More likely she will," said Marguerite. He positively could feel her lips tightening. Futile to put in a word for Mrs. Haim!
He had wanted to keep Marguerite Haim to himself; but it was worth while to visit the studio, and it was especially worth while to watch her under the illumination of the lamp. "Lucky we have a clean tablecloth," said Mr. Buckingham Smith, opening his packages and setting a table. "Brawn, Miss Haim! And beer, Miss Haim! That is to say, Pilsener.
She was inexpressibly romantic.... He lifted her torso easily; and pride filled him because he could do easily what others could not do at all. Her arms trailed limp. Mr. Haim and Mr. Prince jointly raised her lower limbs. George staggered backwards up the remainder of the stairs. As they steered the burden into the bedroom, where a candle was burning, Mrs.
Haim opened her eyes and, gazing vacantly at the ceiling, murmured in a weak, tired voice: "I'm all right. It's nothing. Please put me down." "Yes, yes, my love!" said Mr. Haim, agitated. They deposited her on the bed. She sighed; then smiled. A slight flush showed on her cheek under the light of the candle which Mr. Prince was holding aloft.
Haim lifted his back from the mantelpiece sharply. Then he hesitated, moving forward a little. "Mr. Cannon," he said, "it's curious you should ask that." His voice trembled, and at the vibration George was suddenly apprehensive. Mr. Haim had soon recovered from his original emotion, but now he seemed to be in danger of losing control of himself. George nervously cleared his throat and apologized.
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