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Updated: June 22, 2025
I go to Mrs. Birtwell's to-night. Young and old, men and women, all are partakers, but I stand aloof I, of all the guests, refuse the hospitality I have pretended to accept. Can I do this without attracting attention or occasioning remark? No; and what will be said?
May not a young man as readily acquire a taste for liquors in a gentleman's dining-room as in a drinking-saloon nay, more readily, if in the former the wine is free and bright eyes and laughing lips press him with invitations?" Mrs. Birtwell's voice had gained a steadiness and force that made it very impressive. Her husband continued to walk the floor but with slower steps.
"And as to the cost of giving a feast, what would be extravagance in one might only be a liberal hospitality in another. Cake and ice cream for my friends might be as lavish an expenditure for me as Mr. Birtwell's banquet last night was for him, and as likely to set me among the beggars when I get over to the other side."
An officer would be complimented on his rank or public service, a scientist on his last book or essay, a leading politician on his statesmanship. At Mr. Birtwell's you always found yourself among men with more in them than you had suspected, and felt half ashamed of your ignorance in regard to their great achievements.
Ridley But you have heard all about her case and its fatal termination, and understand in what way it was connected with the party at Mr. and Mrs. Birtwell's. The consequence of that night's excesses met me at every turn. The unusual calls, the imminent danger in which I found Mrs.
A closer look into the young physician's face sent a flash of suspicion through the mind of Mr. Voss, which was more than confirmed a moment afterward as the stale odor of wine floated to his nostrils. "Were you at Mr. Birtwell's to-night?" There was a thrill of anxious suspense in the tones of Mr. Voss as he grasped the physician's arm and looked keenly at him. "I was," replied Doctor Angier.
A kind of fatality seems to have attended this party." The doctor gave a little shiver, which was observed by Doctor Kline. "Not a nervous chill?" said the latter, manifesting concern. "No; a moral chill, if I may use such a term," replied Doctor Hillhouse "a shudder at the thought of what might have been as one of the consequences of Mr. Birtwell's liberal dispensation of wine."
Birtwell's that night, and the cold, snow-laden air struck into my face on crossing the pavement to my carriage, cooling my blood and clearing my brain, I thought of Mrs. Carlton and the life that had been placed in my hands, and a feeling of concern dropped into my heart.
Birtwell noticed something in his voice that made her say quickly: "Why do you ask?" "For no particular reason, only she's not down to tea." Mr. Birtwell's face had grown very serious. "She'll be along in a few moments," returned Mrs. Birtwell. But several minutes elapsed, and still she did not make her appearance. "Go up and knock at Miss Blanche's door," said Mrs. Birtwell to the waiter.
How he reached there at last I do not know he must have been in some station-house until daylight; but when I saw him, his pitiable suffering and alarmed face made my heart ache. He had killed his wife! He, or the wine he found at Mr. Birtwell's? Which?" Doctor Hillhouse was nervous and excited, using stronger language than was his wont.
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