Octave
Feuillet's play, the "Sphynx," is on. I begin to think it was selfish
on my part, you all look so comfortable; perhaps we had better abandon
it."
"Put it to the vote," cried Mrs. Wingfield.
"And no bribery," echoed Vaura.
"I fear if it is put to the vote," said Lady Esmondet, "mine will be
bought, by the beseeching look of Capt. Trevalyon, for a stay at
home."
"See what it is to have an expressive face, Trevalyon," said Everly;
"it has gained you one vote, in spite of the rule Miss Vernon made of
no bribery."
"I thank you for your sympathy, Lady Esmondet; but I fear yours would
be the only vote recorded in my favor, so the 'Sphynx' must needs make
us her own."
"As she did many an unhappy mortal in days of yore, in her Theban
home. I wonder if they looked as resigned in their martyrdom as poor
Capt. Trevalyon does," said Vaura.
"I used to think Oedipus finished her," said Trevalyon.
"Only for his day," said Vaura; "'twas too long a look till Octave
Feuillet; he should have asked Lynceus to give a glance."
"The Cyclops might have lent him an eye," said Bertram.
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