He had certainly been rather screwed (but that there
would be no necessity to mention); it was just a curious chance that
he should have used them. He dramatised the interview in his mind. It
would serve Christian right; it would be a rather jolly instance of
retributive justice--only he wished that the Christian whom he
visualised was not always that shadowed, ethereal Christian whom he
had painted, with, as Rossetti said, the wonder not yet quite gone
from that still look of hers. Bother Rossetti, anyway! What did it
matter what he said? The main point was what Larry himself had said,
and the result was that he was engaged to Tishy Mangan, solidly and
seriously.
There was nothing fatiguingly ethereal about Tishy anyhow; she was
just about as good-looking a girl as he had ever met in his life. He
would take her to Paris some day, and would see what his pals would
say to her. He thought there wouldn't be two opinions about her there.
He and she would travel about a bit. He didn't feel as if he would
care about settling down at Coppinger's Court at once. Anyhow he would
have to fix up about Aunt Freddy. She hadn't written him much of a
letter about his engagement; she seemed to like it just about as well
as she had liked his excursion into politics.
"Of course Tishy's a Papist!" he thought, mockingly, accounting to
himself for the chill of the congratulations.
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