The Vehement Flame by Margaret Wade Campbell Deland
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page 35 of 464 (07%)
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after supper, to see her. Eleanor, supremely satisfied, with no doubts,
now about the wisdom of what she had done, was nervous only as to the effect of her aunt's temper upon Maurice; and he, full of a bravado of indifference which confessed the nervousness it denied, was anxious only as to the effect of the inevitable reproaches upon Eleanor. Their five horrid minutes of waiting in the parlor for Mrs. Newbolt's ponderous step on the stairs, was broken by Bingo's dashing, with ear-piercing barks, into the room: Eleanor took him on her knee, and Maurice, giving the little black nose a kindly squeeze, looked around in pantomimic horror of the obese upholstery, and Rogers groups on the tops of bookcases full of expensively bound and unread classics. "How have you stood it?" he said to his wife; adding, under his breath, "If she's nasty to you, I'll wring her neck!" She was very nasty. "I'm not a party to it," Mrs. Newbolt said; she sat, panting, on a deeply cushioned sofa, and her wheezy voice came through quivering double chins; her protruding pale eyes snapped with anger. "I shall tell you exactly what I think of you, Eleanor, for, as my dear mother used to say, if I have a virtue it is candor; I think you are a puffect fool. As for Mr. Curtis, I no more thought of protectin' him than I would think of protectin' a baby in a perambulator from its nursemaid! Bingo was sick at his stomach this mornin'. You've ruined the boy's life." Eleanor cringed, but Maurice was quite steady: "We will not discuss it, if you please. I will merely say that I dragged Eleanor into it; I _made_ her marry me. She refused me repeatedly. Come, Eleanor." He rose, but Mrs. Newbolt, getting heavily on to her small feet, and |
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