The Definite Object: A Romance of New YorkFarnol, Jeffery
General
The Definite Object: A Romance of New York
Farnol, Jeffery
New York (N.Y.) -- Fiction
"There, there, my love--my pretty, don't remember that last time! Oh,
drat my fool's tongue for remindin' you, drat it, my dear, my honey! Ah,
don't go breakin' your angel's 'eart along of Arthur, my precious--and
drat him too! That b'y'll come back all right, he will--he will, I know
he will. Oh, if I was only behind 'im with a toasting fork! There,
there, Hermy dear, don't fret, Arthur'll come home all right. My honey,
you're all tuckered out, an' here it's gettin' on to midnight, an' you
to go to Englewood by the early car! Go to bed, dear, an' I'll sit up
for Arthur. Only don't cry, Hermy--"
"Oh, I'm not crying, dear," said Hermione, lifting her head. "See, I
haven't shed a tear! But I must find Arthur. I couldn't rest or sleep;
I should lie listening for his step. So you see, dear, I must go out and
find him!"
Hereupon, with swift, dexterous fingers, Hermione straightened the very
neat hat which the embrace of Mrs. Trapes had rendered somewhat askew,
and, turning to the door, came face to face with Mr. Ravenslee, and in
his hand she beheld his battered hat, but she did not notice how
fiercely his powerful fingers gripped it.
"Miss Hermione," said he, in his soft, indolent voice, and regarding
her beneath languidly drooping lids, "pray accept the hospitality of
my--er--apartment. You will find the easy-chair is very easy, and while
you sit here with Mrs. Trapes, I'll find your brother and bring him here
to you."
"Thank you," she answered a little shortly because of his lazy tone or
his sleepy eyes, or his general languid air, or all of them together.
"Thank you, but I'm going myself; I must go, I--I couldn't wait--"
"Oh, but really you must, you know!"
"Must?" she repeated, looking her surprise.
"Ab-solutely must!" he answered softly, nodding so sleepily that she
almost expected him to yawn. "You really can't go out again to-night,
you know," he added. Hermione's blue eyes flashed, her delicate brows
knit themselves, and Mr. Ravenslee saw that she was taller than he had
thought.
"You mean you will--try to stop me?" she demanded.
"No, I mean that I--will stop you!"
"But you'd never dare--"
"I would dare even your anger in so good a cause. Ah, please don't be
angry with me, Miss Hermione, because--" and here his sleepy voice grew
positively slumberous, "you shall not go out into the streets again
to-night!"
"Ah, an' that's right too, Mr. Geoffrey!" cried Mrs. Trapes. "Hermy
needs some one strong enough to master her now an' then, she is that
wilful, she is so!"
But now all at once, as he watched, Hermione's eyes filled with great,
slow-gathering tears, her firm-set lips grew soft and quivered
pitifully, and she sank down in the easy-chair, her golden head bowed
upon the green and yellow tablecloth. The battered hat tumbled to the
floor, and striding forward, he had bent and caught one of her listless
hands all in a moment, and thereafter, though it struggled feebly once,
he held it closely prisoned in his own.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account