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Lawrence is edged with thick shrubs and trees, anybody could easily hide amongst the shrub laurel, myrtle, ivy watch for Mrs. Bunning's going out, and, when she had gone, slip across the lane a very narrow one! and enter the door which, as she says, she left open. It would not take two minutes for any person who knew the place to pass from St.
We got some direct evidence yesterday for the first time." "As how?" questioned Hawthwaite. "That door into Bunning's room," replied Brent. "That's where the murderer slipped in." "Ay; but did he?" said Hawthwaite. "If one could be certain " "Look here!" asserted Brent. "There is one thing that is certain dead certain. That handkerchief!" "Well?" asked Hawthwaite.
He was quiet, collected, perfectly calm. He went over to the window, opened it, and rejoiced in the breeze. The room seemed suddenly empty. Five minutes ago it had been crowded, breathless. There was now only Bunning. "It was so awfully hot with that enormous fire," he said. Bunning's condition was peculiar.
The thing's getting no farther, sir, no farther, except, of course, for the very pertinent fact about Mrs. Bunning's absence from her quarters that fateful evening. My own impression, sir, is that Hawthwaite and all the rest of 'em don't know the right way of going about this business. But the Monitor's going to wade in, sir the Monitor is coming to the rescue!
Olva escaped Bunning's pleading eyes, found his gown amongst a heap in the corner, and avoiding Mr. Gregg's pressing invitation to stay, plunged down the stairs. Behind him, then, making his heart leap into his mouth, was a slow, thick voice. "I say, Dune, what do you say to a little drink in my room after all that muck?" Above him, in the dark shadow of the stair, loomed Lawrence's thick body.
Over Bunning's red wrists the brown ends of a Jaeger vest protruded from under the shirt. "I say, why don't you dress properly?" "I don't know " began Bunning. "Well, the sleeves of your vest needn't come down like that. It looks horribly dirty. Turn 'em up." Bunning, blushing almost to tears, turned them back.
He was always thinking of the next things to ask and that frightened me so." The misery in Bunning's eyes grew deeper. "Suddenly I thought I saw what was meant that I was intended to take it on myself. It made me warm all over, the though of it. . . . Now, I was going to do something . . . that's how I saw it!"
It never occurred to me before, but during that time my missis may have been out of the place for a few minutes or so, to fetch the supper beer, sir." "To be sure! Now where does Mrs. Bunning get your supper beer?" "At the Chancellor Vaults, sir round the corner." Meeking turned quietly to the Coroner. "I think we ought to have Mrs. Bunning's evidence," he remarked.
To Bunning's right and left, going away from the eastern corner of the market-place, lay two narrow streets, called respectively River Gate and Meadow Gate one led downwards to the little river on the southern edge of the town; the other ran towards the wide-spread grass-lands that stretched on its northern boundary.
Again he stuck his finger into Bunning's ribs. "Make of what, says you!" he breathed. "Ay, to be sure! Why, of all this here coming up at night to the Moot Hall, and sitting, all alone, in that there Mayor's Parlour, not to be disturbed by nobody, whosomever! What's it all mean?" "No business of mine," replied Bunning. "Nor of anybody's but his own. That is, so far as I'm aware of. What about it?"
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