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Hope, Anthony, 1863-1933

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Something of these feelings found expression in the look with which he
regarded May, and he allowed himself to express them more freely to Lady
Mildmay, who would have disappointed the most important meeting sooner
than face the risk of Sir Winterton's taking cold. He told her how May
had said, "He won't stand being coddled," and then had added, with a
frankness which the doctor had not become accustomed to, "Besides I
should never do it. We aren't in the least like that to one another."
"I felt rather sorry for the man," said the doctor. "It's as if he was a
racehorse, and they didn't think so much about him as about a win for
the stable."
"Do you like him?" asked Lady Mildmay, merely in natural curiosity. But
the doctor started a little as he answered, "Why, no, I don't like him
at all." And as he drove home he was thoughtful.
"Well, here we are at last!" said Jimmy Benyon as he sat down to
breakfast on the morning of the polling day. "I'm told Mildmay's people
were asking for six to four last night. Where's Quisante?"
"He went out just before eight, to catch some of the men who work on the
line and can't be back to vote in the evening," said May.


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