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No, butI know.
She rose and opened the door. Outside was her husband, with his hat and coat on.
A farmeressfeminine of farmer. I am the legal owner of a fruit-farm in Canada, and another of Englands unemployed will, at the beginning of next month,[346] emigrate and leave the sinking ship. Its rude to stare, my dear sister. Isnt it a brilliant idea? Alone I did it. At least, no. I got the idea and Colin Paton helped me to get the farm and see that it was genuine and above-board. Why, Claud, old girl, whats the matter?
Marshall isnt at all a bad cook, returned Frank lightly, and I told her to think out a specially nice dinner.
Oh, no! Patsy islet me seenearly eighteen. Mother is so annoyed. You see I keep out of her way, but Pat is noisy about the house. She finds Pat absolutely antagonistic towell to the spooks and the thought waves. She had hoped Pat would stay over in Germany for six months and acquire a philosophic language. Pat informed mother yesterday that she knew her type of good looks went off early, and she advised mother to get her safely off-hand before she began to fade. Claudia laughed heartily at the remembrance. Shes awfully pretty. You dont remember her?
Claudia, I did my best, and even spoke quite plainly; but I couldnt get you off. She was very cross indeed. Her voice through the telephone was like that of an angry mosquito. She says you, at least, must come, and she wants you to bring a substitute. She suggested that Mr. Hamilton should come out with you, as she wants to make his acquaintance.
Yes, he responded moodily, just before you came in.
My waiting was pure laziness, he said lightly. The silent man is not always the wise one, though he does look unutterables.
Looks all right. I dont notice anything wrong, so I suppose its all right. Thats the test of mens dressing, isnt it? Why not Wargrave?
Dont! she said quickly. Sometimes one may mistake hardness for strength. Dontpitifullydont rub it in, Colin. Her eyes suddenly filled with tears.
No.... I was making a mental picture of you. I thinkI think I can paint you now. I want to paint you in that velvet cloakwhat colour do you call it?it is like copper in the firelightwith the sable just touching your throat at one side just as it is now and falling off the other shoulder. Will you let me? Oh! I want my brushes in my hand now. His eyes suddenly blazed with the inspiration of the moment as they devoured her. Quickly she drew the folds of the cloak closer around her neck. She felt as though a scorching wind had swept over her, a sirocco of passion came from him to her. She shrank back a little, yet even as she instinctively did so she wondered why. Her husband flagrantly neglected her, most of her friends had consoled themselves[110] for their husbands shortcomings, and had not she almost determined to seek the love which she craved outside her home? She met his eyes, and she was half attracted, half repelled by their light. She liked him, she felt his magnetism drawing her, and yet something which she could not quite understand bobbed quickly up to the surface of her mind and surveyed them both with a certain contempt. So she was a little cruel in her reply to his enthusiasm.
The man, who was an excellent valet, answered with considerable conviction. You did not tell me, sir. I know you did not. You may have thought you did, but you did not say anything about the suit-case.
Ill see what I can do in the morning. Good-night, Gilbert.