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Phillpotts, Eden, 1862-1960

"The Red Redmaynes"

Bendigo
regarded him with an expression half humorous and half grim.
"That's how the land lies," he said. "Now you've got it."
Mark bent his head.
"And you think that she--"
"Yes--I think so. Why not? Did you ever in your experience hit up
against a man more likely to charm a young woman?"
"Will he keep his word and not try to make the running for another
six months?"
"You're as green about love as I am; but even I can answer that. Of
course he'll make the running. He can't help it. It doesn't need
words."
"The idea of another husband would be abominable to Mrs. Pendean for
many years; and no Englishman worthy of the name would dare to
intrude upon her sacred grief."
"I don't know anything about that. I only know that whatever the
amount of grief she feels, she's devilish interested in
Giuseppe--and he's not an Englishman."
They talked for the best part of an hour and Mark perceived that the
old sailor was something of a fatalist. He had already concluded
that his niece would presently wed again and with the Italian.


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