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Updated: May 9, 2025
"Nonsense," said Mr Bellingham, "the boy is alive, and likely to live." But the old woman was helpless and hopeless, and insisted on believing that her grandson was dead; and dead he would have been if it had not been for Ruth, and one or two of the more sensible neighbours, who, under Mr Bellingham's directions, bustled about, and did all that was necessary until animation was restored.
Perhaps he has an ill-tempered wife, who, after the amiable fashion of a certain type of woman, thinking that her husband is pinned down without a chance of escape, gives a free rein to her temper. The man puts up with it for years, but at last it becomes unbearable. Then he suddenly disappears; and small blame to him. But this was not Bellingham's case.
He had all the national hatred of making a scene, and he knew so little of his neighbour that he would not lightly intrude upon his affairs. For a moment he stood in doubt and even as he balanced the matter there was a quick rattle of footsteps upon the stairs, and young Monkhouse Lee, half dressed and as white as ashes, burst into his room. "Come down!" he gasped. "Bellingham's ill."
Bellingham was a perfect diplomatist, and, being deeply interested, he had soon learned all the details of the case by heart. "It is very distressing," he said gravely. But that was all. Margaret had had some faint idea that he might offer to help her it was absurd, of course or at least that he might give her some good advice. But that was not Mr. Bellingham's way of doing things.
"There is no mistake, I assure you," Thorndyke answered. "To convince you, I will give you the facts in detail. First, as to the teeth. I have seen John Bellingham's dentist and obtained particulars from his case-book. There were in all five teeth that had been filled. The right upper wisdom tooth, the molar next to it, and the second lower molar on the left side, had all extensive gold fillings.
"Well, sir, and what do you make of 'em?" the sergeant asked cheerfully as I shut up my note-book and straightened my back. "Whose bones are they? Are they Mr. Bellingham's, think ye?" "I should be very sorry to say whose bones they are," I replied. "One bone is very much like another, you know."
Bellingham's well-shaped brows arched themselves a trifle higher. "Indeed?" he murmured, at a loss. "A young girl who as I understand was suffering public punishment under sentence of yours." "Yes?" Mr. Bellingham's smile grew vaguer, and his two hands touched finger-tips in front of his magisterial stomach an adequate stomach but well on the right side of grossness.
She isn't capable of it, and she was so magnanimous about it that I made up my mind to do all I could to retrieve myself. I felt that it was my duty to her. Well, last night at Mrs. Jim Bellingham's reception " A look of professional interest replaced the derision in Boardman's eyes. "Any particular occasion for the reception? Given in honour of anybody?"
Old Thomas was standing by the horse-mount, and was also an observer of all her goings-on. But, while Mr Bellingham's feeling was that of passionate admiration mingled with a selfish kind of love, the old man gazed with tender anxiety, and his lips moved in words of blessing: "She's a pretty creature, with a glint of her mother about her; and she's the same kind lass as ever.
Bellingham's bright eyes stole a glance from time to time at the beautiful pair in their corner, and the stories of youth and daring and love, that he seemed so full of this evening, flashed with an unwonted brilliancy. He made up his mind that the two were desperately, hopelessly, in love, and he had taken a fancy to Claudius from the first.
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