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Updated: June 10, 2025


Rather a curious mixture was Doran. He had a light hand for an omelette and a heavy fist in a mix up, a sense of humour in adversity and a seriousness in ordinary affairs of daily life, a shrewd observer, a flawless servant and a staunch ally. Very little got past Frederic Doran. Barraclough shook his head at a bundle of cheese straws and lit a cigarette. "Get those things for me?" he asked.

I'm familiar with all these roads and could walk back without even asking the way." "There might be difficulties." "Oh, quite. It was only a suggestion. I want to keep up the spirit of the thing. If I have to be Shanghaied I'd like it to be done properly." "You wass very high spirited, Mr. Barraclough." "Why not? Comfortable car pleasant company." "Yees. With us this was a very serious business."

Torrington's silent indignation, he spent quite a long while whistling and saying "Sweet sweet" to the little inmate. "But what if you are beaten already, Van Diest? Anthony Barraclough is on his way home presumably with the concession in his pocket." "But he hass not yet arrifed, eh? Dicky, eh? Oh, this poor little one he will miss his master. So the poor the poor Sweet! Sweet!" Mr.

"The house is not to let under any consideration." "Dear, dear! How disappointing." "So if that is your only object in calling " Her hand went out toward the bell. "I pray you will allow me to remain a moment and recover my breath. The heat of the walk, you know. I am not as young as I was." "No one is," replied Mrs. Barraclough uncompromisingly. "How very, very true," said Mr.

"You can tell him to go to the devil," said Anthony Barraclough. "Right, I will. I say, if you feel a bit neglected during the night don't worry, there are plenty of us knocking about in the street below and we shan't desert you." Barraclough smiled grimly. "You seem a genial sort of ass," he said. "Care for a drink?" "No, thanks. I must toddle along and make my report." He hesitated.

"That's funny," said the man and, responding to natural curiosity, turned to examine the picture, while Barraclough embraced the opportunity to slip the crook of his stick through the handle of the bag and tug hard. But the bag was heavier than he had imagined. It scarcely moved and only by bracing his foot on the seat opposite was he able to upset its balance.

"Sergeant Ealing, do excuse me whispering to my maid, but it is so difficult to speak out in public." She dropped her voice to a confidential whisper only for the briefest space and Flora nodded gravely and said: "Yes, Madam, I quite understand," and went out. "And now I really must be going," said Mrs. Barraclough at her bedroom door.

Jane gave a short, stifled squeak and pointed and he was out again and ducking behind a rose bush before Bolt had time to turn and apologise for his mistake. "Show this gentleman through the gate and down the road," said Mrs. Barraclough in a voice that did not betray her excitement by a single tremor.

We remain in statu quo ante." A reproach from Mr. Torrington seldom failed to reach its mark. "I'm sorry," Barraclough apologised, "but I give you my solemn word that somehow I'll win you the purse." "The purse," Mr. Torrington smiled. "One almost forgets the purse in a case like this. It is eclipsed by the will to succeed. Adventure! The one thing of which old people never tire."

"Number fifty-seven," he said. The old skipper focussed a pair of binoculars and steadied them against a stay of the funnel. "Zere," he said, and pointed at a solitary sail to the West of its fellows. "Heem! You see?" Barraclough nodded. "Diamond's a reliable chap. Always as good as his word. How long shall we be?" "Quarter hour ten minit."

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