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Updated: May 31, 2025
Was this close, uncomfortable companionship of the spirit to be forced on him again? If Wynne were present he felt he would be powerless to avoid it. "Do you know Dacre Wynne?" he asked, his voice betraying an emotion that was almost fear. 'Toinette Brellier glanced at her uncle, hesitated, and then murmured: "Yes I do. I didn't know you did, Nigel. He never spoke of you.
Brellier's attitude merely added fuel to the fire and soon they rose to go, Merriton following them to the door. "Don't forget, then, Miss Brellier, that you are booked to me for a ride on Thursday," he said, laughingly. She nodded to him and gave his hand a little squeeze at parting. "I shall not forget, Sir Nigel.
"There was no need for thanks none at all.... What is your opinion of the Towers, Miss Brellier?" he asked suddenly, leaning forward toward her, anxious to change the conversation. She shrugged her shoulders. "That is hardly a fair question to ask!" she responded, "when I have been in it but a matter of five minutes or more. But everything to me is enchanting!
You have heard of me from Nigel, Mr. Headland. I am engaged to be married to him. This is my uncle, with whom I live. Mr. Headland Mr. Brellier." She made the introduction in a distrait manner, and the two men bowed. "I am pleased to meet you, sir," said Brellier, in his stilted English, "but I could wish it were under happier circumstances."
Then he dropped her hand and turned toward the man who stood a pace or two behind her tiny figure, looking at him with the bluest, youngest eyes he had ever looked into. "Mr. Brellier, is it not? Very good of you, sir, to come across in this neighbourly fashion. Won't you sit down?" "Yes," said Antoinette, gaily, "my uncle. I brought him right over by telling him of our adventure."
"Anything that you know, Mr. Brellier, that would perhaps be of help, you can say in the witness box. We are looking for people who know anything of the whole distressing tragedy. You can help that way, and that way alone. For myself," he shrugged his shoulders, "I don't for an instant believe Sir Nigel to be guilty. I can't, somehow. And yet if you knew the evidence against him !"
Headland, for he loves Nigel dearly, and if there was any way in which he could help to unravel this so terrible plot against him Oh! I am sure he must have told me so, sure! There would be no point in his telling an untruth over that." "And yet you can not recall the actual remark that your uncle made, Miss Brellier?" "No. But I am sure, sure that what he said was true."
Funny for 'im to be prowlin' round at this hour of the day night's more to 'is likin'. I could hardly contain myself when I saw who it was even though I had already discovered the passage to Withersby Hall. I had not yet realized that 'Jonathan Brent' and Brellier were one and the same, though I discovered that the former had a perfectly legitimate office in London in Leadenhall Street.
Brellier strode after him and wrung his hand while the two that were left clung to each other in silence. It was as though an unseen, sinister presence had suddenly gone from the room. The tension was lifted, and they could breathe naturally again. Standing together they heard the front door slam.
Gustave Brellier, writhing and twisting in the clutch of the firm fingers and spitting forth fury in a Flemish patois that would have struck Cleek dead on the spot if words could kill. A sudden din arose. People pressed forward, the better to see and hear, exclaiming loudly, condemning, criticising.
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