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第8章

death of the lion-第8章

小说: death of the lion 字数: 每页3500字

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Dora Forbes evidently felt the dilemma; he gave an irritated crook 
to his moustache。  〃SHALL I go in?〃 he presently asked。

We looked at each other hard a moment; then I expressed something 
bitter that was in me; expressed it in an infernal 〃Do!〃  After 
this I got out into the air; but not so fast as not to hear; when 
the door of the drawing…room opened; the disconcerted drop of Miss 
Collop's public manner:  she must have been in the midst of the 
larger latitude。  Producing with extreme rapidity; Guy Walsingham 
has just published a work in which amiable people who are not 
initiated have been pained to see the genius of a sister…novelist 
held up to unmistakeable ridicule; so fresh an exhibition does it 
seem to them of the dreadful way men have always treated women。  
Dora Forbes; it's true; at the present hour; is immensely pushed by 
Mrs。 Wimbush and has sat for his portrait to the young artists she 
protects; sat for it not only in oils but in monumental alabaster。

What happened at Prestidge later in the day is of course 
contemporary history。  If the interruption I had whimsically 
sanctioned was almost a scandal; what is to be said of that general 
scatter of the company which; under the Doctor's rule; began to 
take place in the evening?  His rule was soothing to behold; small 
comfort as I was to have at the end。  He decreed in the interest of 
his patient an absolutely soundless house and a consequent break…up 
of the party。  Little country practitioner as he was; he literally 
packed off the Princess。  She departed as promptly as if a 
revolution had broken out; and Guy Walsingham emigrated with her。  
I was kindly permitted to remain; and this was not denied even to 
Mrs。 Wimbush。  The privilege was withheld indeed from Dora Forbes; 
so Mrs。 Wimbush kept her latest capture temporarily concealed。  
This was so little; however; her usual way of dealing with her 
eminent friends that a couple of days of it exhausted her patience; 
and she went up to town with him in great publicity。  The sudden 
turn for the worse her afflicted guest had; after a brief 
improvement; taken on the third night raised an obstacle to her 
seeing him before her retreat; a fortunate circumstance doubtless; 
for she was fundamentally disappointed in him。  This was not the 
kind of performance for which she had invited him to Prestidge; let 
alone invited the Princess。  I must add that none of the generous 
acts marking her patronage of intellectual and other merit have 
done so much for her reputation as her lending Neil Paraday the 
most beautiful of her numerous homes to die in。  He took advantage 
to the utmost of the singular favour。  Day by day I saw him sink; 
and I roamed alone about the empty terraces and gardens。  His wife 
never came near him; but I scarcely noticed it:  as I paced there 
with rage in my heart I was too full of another wrong。  In the 
event of his death it would fall to me perhaps to bring out in some 
charming form; with notes; with the tenderest editorial care; that 
precious heritage of his written project。  But where was that 
precious heritage and were both the author and the book to have 
been snatched from us?  Lady Augusta wrote me that she had done all 
she could and that poor Lord Dorimont; who had really been worried 
to death; was extremely sorry。  I couldn't have the matter out with 
Mrs。 Wimbush; for I didn't want to be taunted by her with desiring 
to aggrandise myself by a public connexion with Mr。 Paraday's 
sweepings。  She had signified her willingness to meet the expense 
of all advertising; as indeed she was always ready to do。  The last 
night of the horrible series; the night before he died; I put my 
ear closer to his pillow。

〃That thing I read you that morning; you know。〃

〃In your garden that dreadful day?  Yes!〃

〃Won't it do as it is?〃

〃It would have been a glorious book。〃

〃It IS a glorious book;〃 Neil Paraday murmured。  〃Print it as it 
stands … beautifully。〃

〃Beautifully!〃 I passionately promised。

It may be imagined whether; now that he's gone; the promise seems 
to me less sacred。  I'm convinced that if such pages had appeared 
in his lifetime the Abbey would hold him to…day。  I've kept the 
advertising in my own hands; but the manuscript has not been 
recovered。  It's impossible; and at any rate intolerable; to 
suppose it can have been wantonly destroyed。  Perhaps some hazard 
of a blind hand; some brutal fatal ignorance has lighted kitchen…
fires with it。  Every stupid and hideous accident haunts my 
meditations。  My undiscourageable search for the lost treasure 
would make a long chapter。  Fortunately I've a devoted associate in 
the person of a young lady who has every day a fresh indignation 
and a fresh idea; and who maintains with intensity that the prize 
will still turn up。  Sometimes I believe her; but I've quite ceased 
to believe myself。  The only thing for us at all events is to go on 
seeking and hoping together; and we should be closely united by 
this firm tie even were we not at present by another。




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