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Updated: June 7, 2025
If there had been any element of passion in the transaction he would have felt less deteriorated by it. The fact that Alice took her change of husbands like a change of weather reduced the situation to mediocrity. He could have forgiven her for blunders, for excesses; for resisting Hackett, for yielding to Varick; for anything but her acquiescence and her tact.
"Do you consider that the séance which took place the first evening you were here was a properly conducted séance?" asked Varick slowly. "Yes as far as I was able to ascertain it was. I felt convinced, for instance, that Laughing Water was a separate entity that was why I asked her to pass me by. To me there is something indecent about an open séance.
It was with that face she would always see Lionel Varick henceforth. There had been a moment when she had thought she would tell Dr. Panton; then she had come to the conclusion that there was no good purpose to be served by telling the strange and dreadful truth. Some noble lines of Swinburne's which had once been quoted to her by a friend she loved, floated into her mind
They neither saw nor heard me; I leaned against the doorway to see the pretty picture at my ease. The children, Sam and Benny, sat all hunched up, scowling over their books. Close to a fluted pillar, Dorothy Varick reclined in a chair, embroidering her initials on a pair of white silk hose, using the Rosemary stitch.
But even while Varick and Blanche Farrow were arranging together that this disturbing and mysterious occurrence should remain secret, Helen Brabazon was actually engaged in telling one who was still a stranger to her the story of her amazing experience. Perhaps this was owing to the fact that the door of the hall had scarcely shut behind her when she met Sir Lyon Dilsford face to face.
Very awkward for me, as it happens, because he was just putting through a rather important thing for me." "Ah?" Waythorn wondered vaguely since when Varick had been dealing in "important things." Hitherto he had dabbled only in the shallow pools of speculation, with which Waythorn's office did not usually concern itself.
Waythorn waited, and the other went on, after a pause apparently given to the arrangement of his phrases: "The fact is, when I was knocked out I had just gone into a rather complicated piece of business for Gus Varick." "Well?" said Waythorn, with an attempt to put him at his ease. "Well it's this way: Varick came to me the day before my attack.
Her aunt looked at her, surprised at the feeling she threw into her voice. As for Donnington, he was staring at her dumbly and, yes, angrily. At last he said: "And why shouldn't Varick marry her, if they both like one another?" "You wouldn't understand if I were to tell you. You're too stupid and too good to understand." Donnington felt very much put out.
"My cousin Ormond?" she lisped; "I am Dorothy Varick." We measured each other for a moment in silence. There was a trace of powder on her bright hair, like a mist of snow on gold; her gown's yoke was torn, for all its richness, and a wisp of lace in rags fell, clouding the delicate half-sleeve of China silk.
He and Varick had the same social habits, spoke the same language, understood the same allusions. But this other man...it was grotesquely uppermost in Waythorn's mind that Haskett had worn a made-up tie attached with an elastic. Why should that ridiculous detail symbolize the whole man?
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