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Updated: April 30, 2025
The foggy February night refreshed his head, and the business of fetching the luggage from the hotel a commission that necessitated the delivery of his card and some very commanding language kept his mind in order. Subsequently he drove to his cousin Baskelett's Club, where he left a short note to say the house was engaged for the night and perhaps a week further.
Seymour Austin, who sat beside her, laughed and said to her: 'I suppose "uncle" was a chance shot, but it's equal to a poetic epithet in the light it casts on the story. Then it seemed to her that Nevil had been keenly quick, and Captain Baskelett's impenetrability was a sign of his density.
This is my uncle Everard! I might have made sure there'd be a blow from him! And Cecil! of all men for a politician! Cecilia, think of it! Cecil Baskelett! I beg Seymour Austin's pardon for having suspected him... Now sounded Captain Baskelett's trumpet. Angry though he was, Beauchamp laughed. 'Isn't it exactly like the baron to spring a mine of this kind?
And what could there be to warrant Captain Baskelett's malicious derision, and Mr. Romfrey's nodding assent to it, in an article where all was truth? The truth was mounted on an unusually high wind. It was indeed a leading article of a banner-like bravery, and the unrolling of it was designed to stir emotions. Beauchamp was the theme. Nevil had it under his eyes earlier than Cecil.
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