Oh , she 's a rare one ! '' `` What is the man talking about ? '' said Thyra wonderingly . `` Damaris Garland , to be sure . Chester 's down at Tom Blair 's now , talking to her -- and looking more than his tongue says , too , of that you may be sure . Well , well , we were all young once , Thyra -- all young once , even crooked little August Vorst . Eh , now ? '' `` What do you mean ? '' said Thyra . She had sat down in a chair before him , with her hands folded in her lap . Her face , always pale , had not changed ; but her lips were curiously white . August Vorst saw this and it pleased him . Also , her eyes were worth looking at , if you liked to hurt people -- and that was the only pleasure August took in life . He would drink this delightful cup of revenge for her long years of disdainful kindness -- ah , he would drink it slowly to prolong its sweetness . Sip by sip -- he rubbed his long , thin , white hands together -- sip by sip , tasting each mouthful . `` Eh , now ? You know well enough , Thyra . '' `` I know nothing of what you would be at , August Vorst . You speak of my son and Damaris -- was that the name ? -- Damaris Garland as if they were something to each other .
I ask you what you mean XXXXX it ? ''
Damaris Garland about at by if of than that to