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"He is simply, to my mind, an incomprehensible, somewhat sinister figure, who might be capable of anything. He may have very excellent qualities which he contrives to conceal, or he may be an arch-criminal. His personality absolutely puzzles me." There was a knock at the door and Angrave appeared. Apparently he had forgotten Shopland's presence, for he ushered in another visitor.
LEDSAM: I am in a very strange predicament and I have come to ask your advice. You know my brother Andrew well, and you may remember playing tennis with me last year. I am compelled At that point the letter terminated abruptly. There was a blot and a smudge. The pen lay where it seemed to have rolled on the floor. The ink was not yet dry. Francis called to his clerk. "Angrave," he said, "Mr.
Our casualties during the afternoon included one who could ill be spared. A direct hit with a shell on "C" Company Headquarters wounded C.S.M. Angrave in the back. He died a few days later. One of the original Territorials, he had served with us the whole time, and even four years of France had failed to lessen his devotion to "C" Company. Soon after 3-0 p.m.
This was too much for C.S.M. Angrave and Serjeant Tunks, who collected some twenty men and, regardless of the barrage, took advantage of the cover of a sunken road running East, and pushed forward. They could not cross the open, but, using their rifles, drove off the gunners and killed the horses, so that the battery remained in our hands.
"Let me introduce you to my friends," he added, resting his hand upon the other's shoulder, "and then we'll be off." Duncombe, in whose ears his friend's cry was still ringing, pressed eagerly forward. "This is my neighbor, Sir George Duncombe," Lord Runton said, looking into the carriage, "who will shoot with us to-morrow. Miss Fielding and Mr. Fielding, Lady Angrave and the Baron Von Rothe."
Lady Angrave held out her hand. "Sir George and I are almost old friends," she said, with a somewhat languid smile. "We were both at Castle Holkham last autumn." Duncombe murmured something conventional as he bowed over her fingers. His whole attention was riveted upon the tall, pale girl in the further corner of the omnibus.
He glanced in the outer office as he passed to his consulting room. "Anything fresh, Angrave?" he asked his head-clerk. "Nothing whatever, sir," was the quiet reply. He passed on to his own den a bare room with long windows looking out over the gardens.
C.S.M. Angrave kept sniping at the gunners, who replied to each of his shots with a whizz-bang. It soon became obvious that so long as the enemy remained on Doon Hill, the Cavalry could not advance, and shortly after midday we received orders to place two Companies at the disposal of the 137th Brigade, to assist in an attack on the Hill.
Wilmore is not here." The clerk looked around in obvious surprise. "It isn't five minutes since he came out to my office, sir!" he exclaimed. "I heard him go back again afterwards." Francis shrugged his shoulders. "Perhaps he decided not to wait and you didn't hear him go by." Angrave shook his head. "I do not see how he could have left the place without my hearing him, sir," he declared.
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