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Still, the thought of that knife was sweet to me as I crouched there beneath the shadow of the bulwarks. Should I go, or not? I paused for a moment, undecided; then rose slowly erect. As I did so Mrs. Luttrell turned for an instant and saw me.
But it was not until two or three weeks more of their strangely monotonous existence had passed by, that Brian Luttrell got any clue to the kind of burden that was weighing upon Heron's mind. The day had been fiercely hot, but the night was cool, and Brian had half-closed the door through which the sea-breeze was blowing, and the light of the stars shone down.
Luttrell wants him that she is sorry for having been so harsh to him. I know it. I can see it in her eyes. I tell her everything that I hear about him, and I know she likes it. She is pleased that he has married Elizabeth. Tell him to come to-night." "To-night?" said Rupert. He began to fear that her troubles had affected her brain. "Yes, to-night. Remember to tell him so.
For many minutes beforehand, I paced up and down outside the house in an agony, and as my watch pointed to the half-hour, knocked and was admitted. Mrs. Luttrell met me in the passage. She seemed most terribly white and worn, so that I was astonished when she simply said, "Claire is slightly unwell, and in fact could not act last night, but she wishes to see you for some reason."
"Was the somebody a man or a woman?" "A woman, sir." "Did you recognise her voice?" "Yes, sir." "Who was it?" "Miss Whitworth." Harry Luttrell nodded his head as if he had, during these last minutes, come to expect that answer and no other. But Sir Chichester rose up in wrath and, leaning forward over the table, shook his finger threateningly at the girl.
"Are they new people too, Marcus, like the Stanwell's?" but Dr. Luttrell shook his head. "No, they have lived in the place for years, but Mr. Williams quarrelled with Dr. Bevan, and his daughter dared not send for him, and as I was the nearest medical man, the servant came to me; it was just a fluke, that's all." "Is there only one daughter, Marcus?"
But when he spoke he took her completely by surprise. "You had better begin to pack up your things," he said. "We shall go to the South of France either this week or next." "And leave Mrs. Luttrell?" breathed Kitty. His lips stretched themselves into something meant for a smile, but it was a very joyless smile. "And leave Mrs. Luttrell," he repeated. "But, Hugo, what will people say?"
He sent out great clouds of smoke, which speedily filled the air and rendered speaking difficult to Dino, whose lungs had become delicate in consequence of his wound. But Percival was rather pleased than otherwise to inconvenience him. "There are several reasons," the young man began, "why Brian Luttrell wished to be thought dead. He had killed his brother by accident, and Mrs.
A sense of the injustice done him by his mother made the father especially tender to the little Brian; he walked with him, talked with him, made a companion of him in every possible way. Mrs. Luttrell regained by degrees the cold composure of manner that had distinguished her in earlier life: but she could not command herself so far as to make a show of affection for her younger son.
He looked at Percival's masterful face with interest, and a little suspicion, and answered quietly: "I do not know exactly what evidence will satisfy you, sir. Of course, you will require evidence. I, myself, Bernardino Vasari of San Stefano, can testify that I saw Brian Luttrell in our monastery on the 27th day of November, some days after his reputed death.
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