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Hichens, Robert Smythe, 1864-1950

"The Woman with the Fan"

Laycock was tellin' me to-night that--"
"I don't wish to hear Mr. Laycock's stories, Fritz. They don't amuse me."
"Well, p'r'aps they're hardly the thing for you, Vi. But they're deuced
amusin' for all that."
He chuckled again. Lady Holme felt an intense desire to commit some act
of physical violence. She shut her eyes. In a minute she heard her
husband once more beginning to hum the refrain about Ina. How utterly
careless he was of her desires and requests. There was something animal
in his forgetfulness and indifference. She had loved the animal in him.
She did love it. Something deep down in her nature answered eagerly to
its call. But at moments she hated it almost with fury. She hated it now
and longed to use the whip, as the tamer in a menagerie uses it when one
of his beasts shows its teeth, or sulkily refuses to perform one of its
tricks.
Lord Holme went on calmly humming till the brougham stopped in the long
line of carriages that stretched away into the night from the great
portico of Arkell House.
People were already going in to supper when the Holmes arrived. The Duke,
upon whom a painful malady was beginning to creep, was bravely welcoming
his innumerable guests. He found it already impossible to go unaided up
and down stairs, and sat in a large armchair close to the ball-room, with
one of his pretty daughters near him, talking brightly, and occasionally
stealing wistful glances at the dancers, who were visible through a high
archway to his left.


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