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Updated: June 13, 2025
The distinguishing feature of Lord Acton's conversation is an air of sphinx-like mystery, which suggests that he knows a great deal more than he is willing to impart. Partly by what he says, and even more by what he leaves unsaid, his hearers are made to feel that, if he has not acted conspicuous parts, he has been behind the scenes of many and very different theatres.
But the draw-bridge was never raised, and Acton's brilliant visitor was as free to depart as she had been to come. It was part of his curiosity to know why the deuce so susceptible a man was not in love with so charming a woman. If her various graces were, as I have said, the factors in an algebraic problem, the answer to this question was the indispensable unknown quantity.
To the leeward the bulk of the train gave comparative shelter from the fury of the storm, and Acton was in a minute abreast of the guard, floundering heavily in the drifts. "This is a better way, guard. Take my hand, and I'll pull you up." "All right, sir. Here's the lamp." Acton's hand closed on the guard's wrist, and in a moment the young athlete had the man beside him.
The sale had not long been concluded, and the little community were preparing to obey Acton's order to "Come outside," when the latter rushed into the room finning with rage. "I say," he exclaimed, "what do you think that beast of a Noaks has done? Why, he's gone and put ashes all over our slide!"
He, unlucky man, had expected something little short of a virago's talons, and a beldame's curse; he had experienced on less occasions something of the sort before; but now that real affliction stood upon the hearth, Mary Acton's character rose with the emergency, and she greeted her ruined husband with a kindness towards him, a solemn indignation against those who grind the poor, and a sober courage to confront evil, which he little had imagined.
Look, for example, at the queer lot of things which he took from Acton's what was it? a ball of string, a letter-weight, and I don't know what other odds and ends." "Well, we are quite in your hands, Mr. Holmes," said old Cunningham. "Anything which you or the Inspector may suggest will most certainly be done."
He imagined that his companion satisfied herself that the man she evidently desired to avoid had not gone away yet, before she turned to him again. "Aren't you risking Mrs. Acton's displeasure in sitting out here alone?" she inquired. "You are probably aware that this is not what she expects from you?" "I almost think the retort is obvious."
Roger's newly-learnt vocabulary of oaths was drawn upon again. "Did you look in the ash-pit?" asked Jennings. "No, sir." "Well, while you two search this chamber, I will examine it myself." Mr. Jennings apparently entertained a wholesome fear of Acton's powers of wrestling.
"Yours will soon be groggy, Rogers, my pet, though you are cock of your beastly water-lilies." After Sharpe's memorable poem, Biffen's house were always "water-lillies" to the rest of St. Amory's. "Ah?" said Poulett, "Jack carries Acton's notes to some yellow-haired dolly down at Westcote. She gives him milk whilst he's waiting for the answer." "Go and poach eggs, Poulett."
Acton's letter, which stated that his Majesty's ships were to be received in the ports of this island; and I should do him great injustice, did I not observe to you, sir, his earnest endeavours that we should be supplied with everything we require on the most reasonable terms.
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