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Book, page 111 / 298 sentiments of the modern world. Nellie had been a monstrous pretty creature. He had adored her, and had done with her. It was right that she should always be toasted after dinner by the Junta, as in the days when first he loved her -- "Here's to Nellie O'Mora, the fairest witch that ever was or will be!" He would have resented the omission of that toast. But he was sick of the pitying, melting looks that were always cast towards her miniature. Nellie had been beauti- ful, but, by God! she was always a dunce and a simpleton. How could he have spent his life with her? She was a fool, by God! not to marry that fool Trailby, of Merton, whom he took to see her. Mr. Oover's moral tone, and his sense of chiv- alry, were of the American kind: far higher than ours, even, and far better expressed. Whereas the English guests of the Junta, when they heard the tale of Nellie O'Mora, would merely murmur "Poor girl!" or "What a shame!" Mr. Oover said in a tone of quiet authority that compelled Greddon's ear "Duke, I hope I am not incog- nisant of the laws that govern the relations of guest and host. But, Duke, I aver deliberately that the founder of this fine old club; at which ZULEIKA DOBSON 133 you are so splendidly entertaining me to-night, was an unmitigated scoundrel. I say he was not a white man." At the word "scoundrel," Humphrey Greddon had sprung forward, drawing his sword, and loudly, in a voice audible to himself alone, chal- lenged the American to make good his words. Then, as this gentleman took no notice, with one clean straight thrust Greddon ran him through the heart, shouting "Die, you damned psalm- singer and traducer! And so die all rebels
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