Mrs. Wimbush delights in her wit and says
there's nothing so charming as to hear Mr. Paraday draw it out.
He's perpetually detailed for this job, and he tells me it has a
peculiarly exhausting effect. Every one's beginning--at the end of
two days--to sidle obsequiously away from her, and Mrs. Wimbush
pushes him again and again into the breach. None of the uses I
have yet seen him put to infuriate me quite so much. He looks very
fagged and has at last confessed to me that his condition makes him
uneasy--has even promised me he'll go straight home instead of
returning to his final engagements in town. Last night I had some
talk with him about going to-day, cutting his visit short; so sure
am I that he'll be better as soon as he's shut up in his
lighthouse. He told me that this is what he would like to do;
reminding me, however, that the first lesson of his greatness has
been precisely that he can't do what he likes. Mrs. Wimbush would
never forgive him if he should leave her before the Princess has
received the last hand. When I hint that a violent rupture with
our hostess would be the best thing in the world for him he gives
me to understand that if his reason assents to the proposition his
courage hangs woefully back.
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