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That thing guv my lily-queen the 'orrors. Jes you 'ear, Mr. Beecot, and creeps will go up your back. Lor' 'ave mercy on us as don't know the wickedness of the world." "I think we have learned something of it lately, Mrs. Tawsey," was Paul's grim reply. "But tell me " "Wot my pore angel sunbeam said? I will, and if it gives you nightmares don't blame me," and Mrs.
"You won't come on to my club?" asked Sandal, leaning out of the cab. "No, thank you," replied Paul. "Good-night," and he walked away. The fact is Beecot wished to put on paper all that he had heard that night and send it to Hurd. As soon as he reached his attic he set to work and wrote out a detailed account of the evening.
The case got into the papers, and everyone was astonished at the strange sequel to the Gwynne Street mystery. Beecot senior, reading the papers, learned that Sylvia was once more an heiress, and forthwith held out an olive branch to Paul. Moreover, the frantic old gentleman, as Deborah called him, really began to feel his years, and to feel also that he had treated his only son rather harshly.
Krill, who was always looking for her husband, that a one-eyed bookseller in Gwynne Street, Drury Lane, had fainted when he saw the very identical brooch showed him by another cove." "Beecot. I know. Didn't you wonder how the brooch had left the pawnshop?" asked Hurd, very attentive. "No, I didn't," snarled Jessop, who was growing cross.
Paul, glancing at her serene face across the rosy-hued table, wondered if she really was as calm as she looked, and if she really lacked the brain power her mother seemed to possess. "I am glad to see you here, Beecot," said Hay, smiling. "I am very glad to be here," said Paul, adapting himself to circumstances, "especially in such pleasant company." "You don't go out much," said Lord George.
"He was hard up and almost starving for a long time after he came to London," explained Paul, "then he got a post in a second-hand bookshop kept by a man called Garner in the Minories. He had a daughter, Lillian " "My mother," put in Sylvia, softly. "Yes," went on Beecot, quickly, "and this girl being lonely fell in love with Norman, as he now called himself.
"I have taken quite a fancy to you, Mr. Beecot, and you shall know what I do." "Pray do not tell me if you would rather not." "But I would rather," said Mrs. Krill, bluntly; "it will prevent your misconception of anything you may hear about us. My husband's real name was Lemuel Krill, and he married me thirty years ago. I will be frank with you and admit that neither of us were gentlefolks.
It was strange that the sight of the brooch should have produced such an effect on Aaron, and his fainting confirmed Paul's suspicions that the old man had not a clean conscience. But what the serpent brooch had to do with the matter Beecot could not conjecture.
"I'll buy it at a large price. Ask what you want." "Why are you so eager to get it?" demanded Beecot, astonished. "That's my business," said Norman, in a suddenly imperious manner. "I want it. The stones take my fancy," he ended weakly. "Was that why you fainted?" asked Paul, suspiciously. "No." The man grew white and leaned against the counter, breathing heavily.
And lovers meet here also, so it was quite in keeping that Paul Beecot should wait by the bronze statues of the Herculaneum wrestlers for the coming of Sylvia. On the previous day he had departed hastily, after committing the old man to Deborah's care.
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