I always thought Arthur had it in
him."
"But you hardly expected such a run--such an excitement!"
"I don't know," said Doris, coolly. "I think I did--sometimes. The
question is how long it will last."
She looked, smiling, at her interrogator.
The gentleman with the whiskers stooped across the table.
"Oh, nothing lasts in this world. But that of course is what makes a
good time so good."
Doris turned towards him--demurring--for the sake of conversation. "I
never could understand how Cinderella enjoyed the ball."
"For thinking of the clock?" laughed Sir Luke. "No, no!--you can't mean
that. It's the expectation of the clock that doubles the pleasure. Of
course you agree, Rachel!"--he turned to her--"else why did you read me
that very doleful poem yesterday, on this very theme?--that it's only
the certainty of death that makes life agreeable? By the way, George
Eliot had said it before!"
"The poem was by a friend of mine," said Lady Dunstable, coldly. "I read
it to you to see how it sounded. But I thought it poor stuff.
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