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Updated: June 16, 2025
"If person named Pratt sends any communication to us re Parrawhite, on no account let him know I am in Barford, but forward whatever he sends to me at once, addressed to H.D. Black, Central Station Hotel." When Collingwood said that he was following out something of his own, he was thinking of an interesting discovery which he had made.
The following afternoon saw Magdalen and Fay driving together to Lostford, to consult the Bishop as to what steps it would be advisable to take in the matter of Michael's release. Magdalen felt it would be well-nigh impossible to go direct to Wentworth, even if he had been at Barford. But he had been summoned to London the day before on urgent business.
Pratt lived in a little hamlet of old houses on the very outskirts of Barford on the edge of a stretch of Country honeycombed by stone-quarries, some in use, some already worked out. It was a lonely neighbourhood, approached from the nearest tramway route by a narrow, high-walled lane.
Neots, to Barford Bridge, and to Bedford; by the River Nyne to Peterborough; by the drains and washes to Wisbeach, to Spalding, Market Deeping, and Stamford; besides the several counties, into which these goods are carried by land-carriage, from the places, where the navigation of those rivers end; which has given rise to this observation on the town of Lynn, that they bring in more coals than any sea-port between London and Newcastle; and import more wines than any port in England, except London and Bristol; their trade to Norway and to the Baltic Sea is also great in proportion, and of late years they have extended their trade farther to the southward.
But he affected not to see anything, and he went on talking rapidly. "Complete change in the arrangements at the last minute," he said. "I've just been writing about it. So as that's off, I think I shall follow Eldrick's advice, and take chambers in Barford for a time, and see how things turn out. I'm going into Barford now, to see Eldrick about all that."
In the next he knew that heavy trouble had fallen on Normandale Grange, the very day after he had left it. This is what Collingwood read as he sat, coffee-cup in one hand, newspaper in the other staring at the lines of unleaded type: TRAGIC FATE OF YOUNG YORKSHIRE SQUIRE "A fatal accident, of a particularly sad and disturbing nature, occurred near Barford, Yorkshire, on Saturday.
B. Walmsley, established a kennel first at Barford, near Bath, and then at The Priory, at Bowden, in Cheshire, where they succeeded in breeding the finest kennel of St. Bernards that has ever been seen in the world. Dr. Inman had for several years owned good dogs, and set about the work on scientific principles. He, in conjunction with Mr. Walmsley, purchased the smooth-coated Kenilworth from Mr.
And thereupon the duke closed his eyes on this world, and went upon his way. A bachelor's an unfinished thing ... He wants somebody to listen to his talk. Reader, do you know Barford, in Hampshire? If you don't, I can tell you how to get to it. You take train from Victoria, and you get out at Saundersfoot.
The morning after the storm Wentworth was sitting in the library at Barford, looking out across the garden to the down. Behind the down lay Priesthope, where Fay was. He was thinking of her. This shewed a frightful lapse in his regulated existence. So far he had allowed the remembrance of Fay to invade him only in the evenings over his cigarette, or when he was pacing amid his purpling beeches.
Dated this sixteenth day of November, 1906. HENRY GAUKRODGER, 16, Florence Street, Barford, Mill Manager. CHARLES WATSON MARSHALL, 56, Laburnum Terrace, Barford, Cashier." As the last word left his lips Pratt carefully folded up the will, slipped it into an inner pocket of his coat, and firmly buttoned the coat across his chest.
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