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"Why, indeed?" I said. "He might throw 'C.M.'s' letter aside, but if there had been a previous letter warning him that danger threatened him from Italy, do you imagine he would have failed to open one with the Rome postmark on it?" "That does seem to knock the bottom out of my argument," said Quarles. "I am afraid the theory is too elaborate altogether," I went on. "Parrish was an eccentric.
"It's a secret still," she said. "No one knows but Mother. Hartley doesn't want it announced yet!" The sound of the Christian name suddenly seemed to infuriate Greve. "By God!" he cried, "it shan't be! You must be mad, Mary, to think of marrying a man like Hartley Parrish.
Hosmer, who was unacquainted with their language might suppose he was the subject of their mirth, caused them to be silent, and through his interpreter, Captain Parrish, thus addressed him. "We have been made uncomfortable by the storm; we are now warm and comfortable, it has caused us to feel cheerful and merry.
But the suicide theory did not stand up, either. What possible, probable motive had Hartley Parrish for taking his own life? "He wasn't the man to do it!" The wheels of the train took up the rhythm of the phrase and dinned it into his ears. "He wasn't the man to do it!" The riddle seemed more baffling than ever.
Parrish's, shot at Parrish through the open window of the library and killed him probably in self-defence, after Parrish had had a shot at him ..." "Steady there, whoa!" said Mr. Manderton in a jocular way clearly expressive of his incredulity; "there was only one shot ..." "There were two," was Robin's dispassionate reply. "Though maybe only one was heard.
After dinner John Parrish and myself rode to view the Farmer's Brother's encampment which contained about five hundred Indians. They are located by the side of a brook in the woods: having built about seventy or eighty huts, by far the most commodious and ingeniously made of any I have seen.
"Here, Doc," said Horace, suddenly turning on him, "you stick to your bugs and germs. What do you know about matchmaking, anyway?" Dr. Romain chuckled. "We bacteriologists are trained observers. One learns a lot watching the life and habits of the bacillus, Horace, my boy. And between ourselves, Parrish would be a lucky fellow if ..." Trevert turned to him.
In reply Robin told him the story of Hartley Parrish's death, his growing certainty that the millionaire had been murdered, the mysterious letters on slatey-blue paper, and Jeekes's endeavor to burke the investigations by throwing on Robin the suspicion of having driven Parrish to suicide by threats.
Yet here was Hartley Parrish, with his vast financial undertakings, his soaring political ambitions, his social aims which, Robin realized bitterly, had more than a little to do with his project for marrying Mary Trevert, stricken down suddenly, without warning, in the very heyday of success. "Why should he have done it?" he whispered to himself, "why, my God, why?"
Bude mentioned the generous remuneration he was receiving from Sir Herbert Marcobrunner, whereupon Parrish had remarked: "Come to me and I'll double it. I'll give you a week to think it over. Let my secretary know!" After a few discreet enquiries, Bude, faithful to his maxim, had accepted Parrish's offer.
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