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From the rim the top-hat had left upon his shining forehead to the tightly-screwed eyeglass that assisted his left eye; from the pink Malmaison carnation in the buttonhole of his frock-coat to the buff spats that matched his expansive waistcoat in shade, the large Major was the personification of luxurious, pampered, West End swelldom, the type of a class Saxham abhorred.
The face of the inward, unseen Saxham was twisted in a miserable grin, but the outward man preserved immobility. "He enjoyed life. She sat by, and saw, every day joining nearer, her death, that was to leave him free." "And the others?" She asked it with an indrawn breath of anxiety.
At this juncture, and with almost a sensation of pleasure, Saxham saw his old acquaintance Father Noah climb out of his particular trench, briskly for one well stricken in years, and toddle out, laden with rifle, biltong bag, and coffee-can, to his favourite sniping-post, where a bush rose beside a rock, which was shaded by a small group of blue-gums.
As Saxham waited, leaning forward in his consulting-chair, to receive the would-be patient's confidence, you can imagine those blue eyes of his, once so hard and keen, looking out of their hollowing caves with a sorrowful, clear sympathy that was very different from their old regard. To his women-patients he was exquisitely considerate. Only to one class of patient was he merciless and unsparing.
Saxham did not smile. But a muscle twitched in his cheek as he said: "She would hardly thank you for pitying her." "She would be right to resent my pity!" Lynette burst out with sudden vehemence. "She has been injured, and I was the cause! Oh! how could you be so cruel as to let me go on loving him? Was it kind? Was it fair to yourself and me?"
"One of my men will fetch a cab when you have finished breakfast, and then, sir," said the Superintendent, "I am afraid I must trouble you to come with me to Paddington Police Station." "Very well," said Saxham, frowning, "unless you object to using my brougham, which will be at the door" he looked at his silver table-clock, a present from a grateful patient "in ten minutes' time."
Her clasped hands shook, too, as she held them out, beseeching those about her to be pitiful, and tell her where "they" had taken him. Then, when she was told, and because she was too weak and dazed to walk, she ran all the way to the Hospital, and volunteered to nurse him. Saxham stitched up the split scalp of W. Keyse, and grimly congratulated him upon the thickness of the skull beneath it.
As for my wife, the shock of the murder, accompanied with her own secret conviction that, in some indirect way, she'd helped to set a malicious, lurking, watchful, dangerous Force of some kind working against your wife when she dropped that hint I've told you of bowled her over with a nervous fever." "I remember," said Saxham, who had been called in.
"You know one gets a bit clairvoyant when one is mad about a woman," says Beauvayse, lifting his shamed wet eyes and haggard young face from the pillow of his folded arms. "Well, I'm dead certain that there is another man who who is as badly hit as me." "Who is the other man?" "Saxham!" "The Doctor! Shouldn't have supposed a fellow of that type would be susceptible now," says Bingo.
But" his voice softened and deepened "at any rate, the woman suffered most!" Her lips parted, her eyes were intent upon him. "You have lived with Sisters of Mercy in a Convent," went on Saxham. "You know of their lives even more than I greatly to my advantage have learned.
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