FREE BOOKS

Author's List




PREV.   NEXT  
|<   145   146   147   148   149   150   151   152   153   154   155   156   157   158   159   160   161   162   163   164   165   166   167   >>  
l, Esq." in full on the bill-head, a formality omitted as a rule in luncheon-reckonings. And if this scrap of paper told the truth-- why, _then George had lied!_ But why? Ah, if he had done this thing nothing else mattered, neither the how nor the why! If George had lied? . . . And the pendant--had that been bought in Plymouth and not (as he had asserted) in Truro? He had thrown away the case. Jewellers print their names inside such cases. The pendant was a handsome one. Perhaps his cheque-book would tell. She arose, stepped half-way to the door, but came back and flung herself again upon the couch. No; she could not . . . this was the second time to-day . . . she could not face the torture again. Yet . . . if George _had_ lied! She sat up; sat up with both hands pressed to her ears to shut out a sudden voice clamouring through them-- "_And why not? A son's a son--curse you!--though he was your man!_" CHAPTER XXVIII. A L'OUTRANCE. Lizzie Pezzack had put Joey to bed and was smoothing his coverlet when she heard someone knocking. She passed out into the front room and opened to the visitor. On the doorstep stood a lady in deep black--Honoria. Beyond the garden wall the lamps of her carriage blazed in the late twilight. The turf had muffled the sound of wheels, but now the jingle of shaken bits came loud through the open door. "Ah!" said Lizzie, drawing her breath back through her teeth. "I must speak to you, please. May I come in? I have a question . . ." Lizzie turned her back, struck a match, and lit a candle. "What question?" she asked with her back turned, her eyes on the flame as it sank, warming the tallow, and grew bright again. "It's . . . it's a question," Honoria began weakly; then shut the door behind her and advanced into the room. "Turn round and look at me. Ah, you hate me, I know!" "Yes," Lizzie assented slowly, "I hate you." "But you must answer me. You see, it isn't for me alone . . . it's not a question of our hating, in a way . . . it concerns others. . . ." "Yes?" "But it's cowardly of me to put it so, because it concerns me too. You don't know--" "Maybe I do." "But if you did--" Honoria broke off and then plunged forward desperately. "That child of yours--his father--alone here--by ourselves. . . . Think before you refuse!" Lizzie set down the candle and eyed her. "And _you_," she answered at length, dragging out each word-- "
PREV.   NEXT  
|<   145   146   147   148   149   150   151   152   153   154   155   156   157   158   159   160   161   162   163   164   165   166   167   >>  



Top keywords:
Lizzie
 

question

 

Honoria

 
George
 

candle

 

turned

 

concerns

 

pendant

 

answered

 

length


struck

 
refuse
 

drawing

 
muffled
 
wheels
 

twilight

 

carriage

 

blazed

 

jingle

 

shaken


dragging

 

breath

 

slowly

 

answer

 

assented

 
cowardly
 

hating

 

advanced

 

desperately

 

forward


father

 

plunged

 
warming
 

weakly

 

tallow

 

bright

 

Pezzack

 

Jewellers

 

thrown

 

bought


Plymouth
 
asserted
 

inside

 

cheque

 

Perhaps

 
handsome
 

omitted

 
luncheon
 
reckonings
 

formality