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Updated: June 5, 2025
Mary Bewery would not come up to the links now before afternoon; he, Bryce, would lunch there and then go towards Wrychester to meet her by the path across the fields on which he had waylaid her after his visit to Leicestershire. And meanwhile he would inveigle Sackville Bonham into conversation. Sackville fell readily into Bryce's trap.
And to begin with, I'll make a bold assertion I know more of this Wrychester Paradise mystery involving the deaths of both Braden and Collishaw, than any man living because, though you don't know it, Mitchington, I've gone right into it. And I'll tell you in confidence why I went into it I want to marry Dr. Ransford's ward, Miss Bewery!"
Mystery? a bit of mystery? There was a vast and heavy cloud of mystery, and she knew she could have no peace until it was lifted. In the midst of all her perplexity at that moment, Mary Bewery was certain of one fact about which she had no perplexity nor any doubt it would not be long before the rumours of which Bryce and Mr. Folliot had spoken.
Folliot made an effort to understand this remark, and after inspecting her hostess critically for a moment, proceeded in her most judicial manner. "You must see, my dear Miss Bewery, that it is highly necessary that some one should use the utmost persuasion on Dr. Ransford," she said. "He is placing all of you himself, yourself, your young brother in most invidious positions by his silence!
I say there's no mystery about me. If Miss Bewery will honour me with her hand, she'll get a man whose antecedents will bear the strictest investigation." "Are you inferring that hers won't?" demanded Ransford. "I'm not inferring anything," said Bryce. "I am speaking for myself, of myself. Pressing my own claim, if you like, on you, the guardian. You might do much worse than support my claims, Dr.
"Never!" said Glassdale. "Never mentioned such a man!" Bryce reflected again, and suddenly determined to be explicit. "John Brake, the bank manager," he said, "was married at a place called Braden Medworth, in Leicestershire, to a girl named Mary Bewery. He had two children, who would be, respectively, about four and one years of age when his we'll call it misfortune happened. That's a fact!"
He wanted, at the same time, to have the means of exonerating him whether by fact or by craft so that, as an ultimate method of success for his own projects he would be able to go to Mary Bewery and say "Ransford's very life is at my mercy: if I keep silence, he's lost: if I speak, he's saved: it's now for you to say whether I'm to speak or hold my tongue and you're the price I want for my speaking to save him!"
"In that case," continued Bryce, more coolly than ever, "I shall certainly want to know what you have against me or what Miss Bewery has against me. Why am I objected to as a suitor? You, at any rate, know who I am you know that my father is of our own profession, and a man of reputation and standing, and that I myself came to you on high recommendation.
Mary Bewery was by this time pale and trembling and Bryce continued to watch her steadily. She stole a furtive look at him. "Why didn't you tell all this at the inquest?" she asked in a whisper. "Because I knew how damning it would be to Ransford," replied Bryce promptly. "It would have excited suspicion.
On the surface, there was a strong case of suspicion against Ransford. It had been suggested that very morning before a coroner and his jury; it would grow; the police were already permeated with suspicion and distrust. Would it not pay him, Bryce, to encourage, to help it? He had his own score to pay off against Ransford; he had his own schemes as regards Mary Bewery.
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