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Redmain had paid her for her services, for she must write to Mr. Turnbull for money, and that she disliked. But by the very next post she received, inclosed in a business memorandum in George's writing, the check for fifty pounds she had requested.
Elliotson and he were devoted friends. Dr. Turnbull was tall, thin, upright, with undimmed grey eyes and dark hair, which had hardly yet begun to turn in colour, but was a little worn off his forehead. He had a curiously piercing look in his face, so that it was impossible if you told him an untruth not to feel that you were detected.
In the first village you entered, the village constable would notice that you were not wearing on the left lapel of your coat the small pewter S which is now necessary to any one who walks about beyond asylum bounds or outside asylum hours." "You mean to say," said Turnbull, "that this was what the Master of the asylum urged before the House of Commons?" Dr. Hutton nodded with gravity.
Turnbull eyed the coast curiously for a moment, like one awakening memories of childhood; then he said abruptly, like a man remembering somebody's name: "But, of course, we shall be better off still round the corner of Cragness Point; nobody ever comes there at all." And picking up his sword again, he began striding towards a big bluff of the rocks which stood out upon their left.
Oh, it dove-tails nicely; motive, jealous anger; opportunity, recognition in court of Turnbull disguised as a burglar, at the same time Rochester learns that Turnbull has been caught after midnight in the house of his sweetheart " "D mn you!" Kent sprang for the detective's throat. "Cut out your abominable insinuations. Miss McIntyre shall not be insulted."
Turnbull must have been more superstitious than he knew, for he stopped in the act of going forward. MacIan was brazenly superstitious, and he dropped his sword. After all, he had challenged the universe to send an interruption; and this was an interruption, whatever else it was. An instant afterwards the sharp, weak cry was repeated.
"Now, doctor," he began, and his manner gained in seriousness, "what, in your opinion, killed Jimmie Turnbull?" "The post-mortem examination proved that he had swallowed aconitine in sufficient quantity to cause death," Stone replied. "He undoubtedly died from the effects of that poison." "Is aconitine difficult to procure?" asked Kent. "It is often prescribed for fevers."
This last headache was produced by Mr T forgetting himself, and calling the butler by his real name, which was Snobbs; but Mrs Turnbull had resolved that it should be changed to Mortimer or rather, to Mr Mortimer, as the household were directed to call him, on pain of expulsion. Dinner was announced.
But Kent hardly observed the capsules, his entire attention being centered on one corner of the handkerchief, which had neatly embroidered on it the letter "B." Colonel McIntyre, with an angry gesture, threw down the newspaper he had been reading. "Do you mean to say, Helen, that you decline to go to the supper to-night on account of the death of Jimmie 'Turnbull?" he asked. "Yes, father."
It was not until after he had expired that those rendering him medical assistance became aware that he was James Turnbull in disguise. "James Turnbull was a native of Washington, his father, the late Hon Josiah Turnbull of Connecticut, having made this city his permanent home in the early '90s. Mr.
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