Wrissell
than he had been by the much vaster reputations of Rose Euclid, Seven
Sachs and Mr. Slosson, senior. At the same time he inwardly fought
against Mr. Wrissell's silent and unconscious dominion over him, and
all the defiant Midland belief that one body is as good as anybody
else surged up in him--but stopped at his lips.
"Please don't rise," Mr. Wrissell entreated, waving both hands. "I'm
very sorry to hear of this unhappy complication," he went on to Edward
Henry, with the most adorable and winning politeness. "It pains me."
(His martyred expression said, "And really I ought not to be pained!")
"I'm quite convinced that you are here in absolute good faith--the
most absolute good faith--Mr.--"
"Machin," suggested Mr. Slosson.
"Ah! pardon me! Mr. Machin. And naturally in the management of
enormous estates such as Lord Woldo's little difficulties are apt to
occur.... I'm sorry you've been put in a false position. You have all
my sympathies. But of course you understand that in this particular
case ... I myself have taken up the lease from the estate. I happen
to be interested in a great movement. The plans of my church have been
passed by the County Council. Building operations have indeed begun."
"Oh! chuck it!" said Edward Henry, inexcusably--but such were his
words. A surfeit of Mr. Wrissell's calm egotism and accent and
fatigued harmonious gestures drove him to commit this outrage upon the
very fabric of civilization.
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