The
colonel found himself between two fires: longing on the one hand for
the time to come when he might discreetly ask Bridget to be his wife,
and fearing, on the other hand, the announcement of his good news!
It is true that the rose was not entirely free from thorns. In his
less cheerful moods he could not regard Mark Driver as other than a
possibly disturbing factor. Bridget made no secret of the frequency
and gratification of his former visits to Golfney Place, with the
result that Colonel Faversham wondered occasionally whether she looked
upon himself rather too paternally. He would then puff out his chest,
tug his moustache and make various other efforts to convince her that
he was still in the prime of life.
Nevertheless there hung persistently in the background the tragedy of
his years! He might upon occasion strike one as a comic figure, and of
course he saw no reason why he should not live to be a hundred. An
exceptional age, no doubt, but then he was an exceptional man, as
perhaps every man appears to himself. But Colonel Faversham was not
already without warnings which he would not admit for the world.
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