Moreen
herself took to appealing to him as a man of the world; she said "Voyons,
mon cher," and "My dear man, look here now"; and urged him to be
reasonable, putting it before him that it was truly a chance for him. She
spoke as if, according as he _should_ be reasonable, he would prove
himself worthy to be her son's tutor and of the extraordinary confidence
they had placed in him.
After all, Pemberton reflected, it was only a difference of theory and
the theory didn't matter much. They had hitherto gone on that of
remunerated, as now they would go on that of gratuitous, service; but why
should they have so many words about it? Mrs. Moreen at all events
continued to be convincing; sitting there with her fifty francs she
talked and reiterated, as women reiterate, and bored and irritated him,
while he leaned against the wall with his hands in the pockets of his
wrapper, drawing it together round his legs and looking over the head of
his visitor at the grey negations of his window. She wound up with
saying: "You see I bring you a definite proposal.
Pages:
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52