Throws twilight in her door.
A little timidly, he spoke at length. “Did he write that?”
“She told him——”
“Oh, so could I,” my host acquiesced as we went upstairs together.
No sooner had they disposed of this man than a second was allowed to come up; after him came the third sailor, with Captain Zenos himself bringing up the rear.
In the early days of August, 1914, Boughton burst into my flat. I was still in civilian clothes and was 261reading Ernest Dowson to discover how he stood the war atmosphere: I thought he stood it very well.
“My deer child—” began Mr. John “I know not the first thing of—er——”
During the little scene Coventry had stood by, feeling half-dazed, sickened with the sight and the scent of the violets, oppressed with a vague dread that burdened his body and spirit. He made an effort to turn to the syce and the pony that waited with drooping head and trailing harness; but something held him, kept him, as though his feet were weighted, till she came out--the woman he had seen on the balcony--and as she climbed into the red-hooded carriage her veil fell back, and the moonlight gleamed on her hair. It was then that full recognition struck at George Coventry's heart like the stab of a knife. The woman in the bazaar, who lived in the street of the dancers and such-like, who now drove away in the rath of Babu Chandra Das, was Rafella, his wife of the years that were over and dead.
"My dear Mrs. Creswell," said Mr. Benthall, rising, and laying his hand lightly on her arm, "pray excuse my interrupting you; but I am sure you don't know what you are saying or doing! Ladies have no idea of this kind of thing; they don't understand it, and we cannot explain. I can only say that if any man had--well, I should not have hesitated a moment in knocking him down!" And Mr. Benthall, whose manner was disturbed, whose voice trembled, and whose face was very much flushed, was making rapidly to the door, when Marian called him back.
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