Lyre and Lancet - LightNovelsOnl.com
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[_They move in irregular order towards the dining-hall._
_Undersh.e.l.l_ (_in an undertone to_ Lady MAISIE, _as they follow last_). Lady Maisie, I--er--this is just a _little_ unexpected. I confess I don't quite understand your precise motive in suggesting so--so hasty a departure.
_Lady Maisie_ (_without looking at him_). Don't you, Mr. Blair?
Perhaps--when you come to think over it all quietly--you _will_.
[_She pa.s.ses on, leaving him perplexed._
[Ill.u.s.tration: "PERHAPS--WHEN YOU COME TO THINK OVER IT ALL QUIETLY--YOU WILL."]
_Undersh.e.l.l_ (_to himself_). Shall I? I certainly can't say I do just---- Why, yes, I _do_! That bully Spurrell with his horsewhip! She dreads an encounter between us--and I should much prefer to avoid it myself. Yes; that's it, of course. She is willing to sacrifice anything rather than endanger _my_ personal safety! What unselfish angels some women are! Even that sneering fellow Drysdale will be impressed when I tell him this.... Yes, it's best that I should go--I see that now. I don't so much mind leaving. Without any false humility, I can hardly avoid seeing that, even in the short time I have been amongst these people, I have produced a decided impression.
And there is at least one--perhaps _two_--who will miss me when I am gone.
[_He goes into the Dining-hall, with restored complacency._
THE END.
