DOI article:
Watson, H. B. Marriott: The dead wall
DOI Page / Citation link:https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.27805#0231
By H. B. Marriott Watson 227
He started and dropped his knife. “ What the devil does it
matter how I eat?” he exclaimed angrily. “You—you-”
His ideas faded from him, and he sat staring at her in vacant
indignation. Then he put his hand to his head. “ Oh, forgive
me, Dolly ; forgive me, please. I’m tired and-”
“ My dear man,” broke in Mrs. Rosewarne coldly, “ if you
will make yourself ill, what can you expect ? ” She unfolded a
morning paper and ran her eyes down the columns; Rosewarne
sat looking across the room into the fire. Suddenly she called to
him in a new voice. “ Mr. Maclagan came to town yesterday,
Freddy, and paid a visit to Downing Street.”
“ Yes ? ” he said, starting again.
She drew down the paper and looked at him over the edge, her
eyes filled with some excitement.
“Do you hear, Freddy dear ? Now is your chance to make
the arrangement final.”
He gazed at her, his face contorted in a desperate attempt to
concentrate his thoughts upon her words. What was she saying ?
And what did it mean ?
“ Freddy, don’t you hear ? ” she cried again in a voice in which
impatience blended with a certain eagerness. She leaned forward
and put a hand upon his arm. He clutched at it feverishly with
his fingers. “ Lord Hambleton is favourable, I know, and it only
remains to secure Maclagan,” she went on quickly. “ He, you
know, was inclined to agree when you saw him before. I’m
sure that the nail is ready for the hammer. There is South
Wiltshire, where you are known, and no one yet settled upon by
the Party. See, dear ; you must call on him to-day, and that, with
another cheque for the Party, should place the matter beyond
doubt. Freddy ! Freddy ! Don’t you hear what I’m saying.
For goodness’ sake, don’t look like a corpse, if you are ill.”
“ Yes
He started and dropped his knife. “ What the devil does it
matter how I eat?” he exclaimed angrily. “You—you-”
His ideas faded from him, and he sat staring at her in vacant
indignation. Then he put his hand to his head. “ Oh, forgive
me, Dolly ; forgive me, please. I’m tired and-”
“ My dear man,” broke in Mrs. Rosewarne coldly, “ if you
will make yourself ill, what can you expect ? ” She unfolded a
morning paper and ran her eyes down the columns; Rosewarne
sat looking across the room into the fire. Suddenly she called to
him in a new voice. “ Mr. Maclagan came to town yesterday,
Freddy, and paid a visit to Downing Street.”
“ Yes ? ” he said, starting again.
She drew down the paper and looked at him over the edge, her
eyes filled with some excitement.
“Do you hear, Freddy dear ? Now is your chance to make
the arrangement final.”
He gazed at her, his face contorted in a desperate attempt to
concentrate his thoughts upon her words. What was she saying ?
And what did it mean ?
“ Freddy, don’t you hear ? ” she cried again in a voice in which
impatience blended with a certain eagerness. She leaned forward
and put a hand upon his arm. He clutched at it feverishly with
his fingers. “ Lord Hambleton is favourable, I know, and it only
remains to secure Maclagan,” she went on quickly. “ He, you
know, was inclined to agree when you saw him before. I’m
sure that the nail is ready for the hammer. There is South
Wiltshire, where you are known, and no one yet settled upon by
the Party. See, dear ; you must call on him to-day, and that, with
another cheque for the Party, should place the matter beyond
doubt. Freddy ! Freddy ! Don’t you hear what I’m saying.
For goodness’ sake, don’t look like a corpse, if you are ill.”
“ Yes