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Just then there came a vivid flash of lightning, followed, in a few seconds, by a deep, echoing roll of thunder. The summer storms along this part of the Hudson River sometimes come almost out of the clear sky. "I'm always thankful for even the smallest favors," muttered Anstey, with a yawn.
"You see," almost apologized Anstey, "I want to see Prescott and Holmes particularly because I've been talking over football with them, and they've been telling me a lot about their high school eleven that was right smart and interesting." Bert said no more.
Edgar, you will find no one in the world so true to you as myself. See, I forgot all the past. Once more I offer you my love, my hand, and with it, until my son is of age, Crown Anstey. I never intended you to give it up as you have done. I always wished to offer yourself and your sister an income sufficient for your maintenance.
"But I had to trust to footwork to save myself. Mr. Spurlock got nearly all my wind in that other round." "Is your wind in again?" asked Greg anxiously. "Yes; I think I feel as fine as my man does," replied Dick, stepping up from the care of his handlers to await the command. "Isn't Mr. Kramer the brute?" whispered Anstey indignantly.
"Are you cross-examining this witness?" the judge inquired, glancing at Sir Hector Trumpler. "No, my lord," was the reply. "Are you calling any more witnesses, Mr. Anstey?" "Only one, my lord," replied Anstey "the prisoner, whom I shall put in the witness-box, as a matter of form, in order that he may make a statement on oath."
But the question needed no answer when we reached the landing, for through the open door of our friend's chambers I could see in the darkened room Anstey himself with two uniformed constables and a couple of plain-clothes men. "There has been no signal yet, sir," said one of the latter, whom I recognized as a detective-sergeant of our division. "No," said Thorndyke, "but the M.C. has arrived.
Greek transactions had never anything alive, no result for us, they were dead entirely ... all left is a few ruined towers, masses of stone and broken statuary.... The writings of Socrates are made up of a few wire-drawn notions about virtue; there is no conclusion, no word of life in him. Chisholm Anstey, this posthumous publication is justified by its interest and obvious authenticity.
The keepers of the circulating libraries reported that everybody was asking for Evelina, and that some person had guessed Anstey to be the author. Then came a favourable notice in the London Review; then another still more favourable in the Monthly. And now the book found its way to tables which had seldom been polluted by marble-covered volumes.
"There was some little unpleasantness between father and son over a love affair," said Mr. Moreland. "I do not know the particulars. Mr. Miles Trevelyan was very proud and reserved. He mentioned it to us, but we heard no more of it." "What am I to do next?" I asked him, nervously. "You ought to go down at once to Crown Anstey. The bodies of the two gentlemen will be brought home for interment.
"Dick, old ramrod, as you're the aggrieved one, I don't suppose you can exactly act as class president in this case. But you can designate some other member of the class to act in your place." "Then I'll name Mr. Anstey," replied Dick. "I believe he will be satisfactory to everyone." "Not to me!" snapped Bert Dodge, his uneasy gaze roving from one face to another.
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