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I.4. The Garden of the God
Diana Duke seemed inexplicably irritated at the abrupt entrance and utterance of
the other girl.
"Well," she said shortly, "I suppose Miss Gray can decline him if she doesn't want
to marry him."
"But she DOES want to marry him!" cried Rosamund in exasperation. "She's a
wild, wicked fool, and I won't be parted from her."
"Perhaps," said Diana icily, "but I really don't see what we can do."
"But the man's balmy, Diana," reasoned her friend angrily. "I can't let my nice
governess marry a man that's balmy! You or somebody MUST stop it!--Mr.
Inglewood, you're a man; go and tell them they simply can't."
"Unfortunately, it seems to me they simply can," said Inglewood, with a
depressed air. "I have far less right of intervention than Miss Duke, besides
having, of course, far less moral force than she."
"You haven't either of you got much," cried Rosamund, the last stays of her
formidable temper giving way; "I think I'll go somewhere else for a little sense and
pluck. I think I know some one who will help me more than you do, at any rate...
he's a cantankerous beast, but he's a man, and has a mind, and knows it..." And
she flung out into the garden, with cheeks aflame, and the parasol whirling like a
Catherine wheel.
She found Michael Moon standing under the garden tree, looking over the hedge;
hunched like a bird of prey, with his large pipe hanging down his long blue chin.
The very hardness of his expression pleased her, after the nonsense of the new
engagement and the shilly-shallying of her other friends.