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Updated: June 16, 2025
Here, in a retired nook behind an old screen, stood "Babs's" bassinette, where she took her mid-day naps. "This is Verity's and Bab's playroom," explained Malcolm with a patronising air; "here the Martha of the establishment takes her well-earned rest." Then Verity flashed a sudden look at him which expressed unmitigated indignation.
Such were the outlines of the story related by Malcolm, but in reality much of it was only learnt later on from Verity's lips; but even the slight sketch as Malcolm told it affected Anna almost to tears. "Oh, how she must have loved him!" were her first words when he had finished. "Malcolm, I know you will laugh at my enthusiasm, but I think Mr. Keston is one of the grandest and noblest of men.
"Tom Verity's father, I suppose," Damaris murmured, her colour rising, the hint of a cloud too upon her brow. "And who may Tom Verity be?" Mrs. Frayling, noting both colour and cloud, alertly asked. "A distant cousin. He stayed with us in the autumn just before he went out to India. He passed into the Indian Civil Service from Oxford at the top of the list." "Praiseworthy young man."
Miss Verity's first instinct was to fling herself into the breech; and, directly her brother emerged from his room, demand for her protégée redress and reinstatement. Her second instinct was she didn't, in truth, quite know what for she grew sadly perplexed as she listened. Her sympathy, in fact, split into three inconveniently distinct and separate streams.
The door opened. "Captain Coke to see you, sir," said a servant. "Send 'im in; bring 'im in 'ere." The memorandum book disappeared; Verity's hearty greeting was that of a man who had not a care in the world. His visitor's description was writ large on him by the sea. No one could possibly mistake Captain Coke for any other species of captain than that of master mariner.
She dared to pounce. Having ascertained the number of Sir Charles Verity's sitting-room she refused obsequious escort, tripped straight upstairs unattended, rapped lightly, opened the door and with swift reconnoitering of the scene within announced her advent thus: "Damaris, are you there? Ah! yes. Darling child. At last!"
She felt Carmela dragging her onward, irresistibly, vindictively. She saw, as through a mist, David Verity's fiery-hued face, and heard his harsh accents. Yes, there was no mistake. Here was Bootle transported to Brazil, Linden House to Las Flores! "By gum, lass," he was bellowing, with a touch of real sentiment in his voice, "you've given us a rare dance afore we caught up wi' you.
The enemy replied by shelling Liverpool Trench and Congreve Walk especially the latter. One shell burst right in the trench, took one of Verity's legs almost clean off, and killed his servant Butterworth. The shells were bursting all night. All our trenches were simply packed with troops ready to go over the top at Zero. Lewis's 166 Brigade filled the trenches in front of us.
Coke, you're loony." "Not me. Wait till I'm through. Write a letter sayin' you're sorry the Andromeda must be laid up this fall, but promisin' me the next vacancy. 'Ow does that 'urt you?" Verity's cigar had gone out. He relighted it with due deliberation; it could not be denied that his nerve, at least, was superb. "I'm willin' to do anything in reason," he said slowly.
The incident, though of the most casual and briefest, gave a new direction to Miss Verity's thought. It pleased and intrigued her, bringing a pretty blush to her thin cheeks. "Who and what can he be?" she said to herself. "Where can I have seen him before?" And the blush deepened. "I must really describe him to Charles and find out who he is."
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