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Updated: June 24, 2025
The subject was not without its fascination for him, because it suggested a strange train of thought about the hood clock which was the text, as it were, of the lawyer's discourse. He looked up. Mr. Brimsdown, in front of the clock, was discoursing about dials and pendulums. Barrant broke in abruptly with the question on his mind
Turold's legal adviser?" she continued, after a pause. Mr. Brimsdown, always chary of unnecessary words, replied with a slight bow. "I suppose you have come to Cornwall to investigate the cause of his death?" Mr. Brimsdown remained silent, waiting to hear more. "I I wish to speak to you about that." Her lips quivered with some inward agitation.
There's kingly munificence for you! It's the same with the Masonic order. The gentleman you address as 'Right Worshipful Sir' overnight delivers poultry and rabbits at your back door next morning. Democracy has come into its own, Brimsdown. Sooner or later we shall have a king wearing a cloth cap." "Your remarks do not apply to the old nobility," returned Mr. Brimsdown austerely.
Brimsdown stood so, breathing the sea air and looking around him, he espied a woman, closely veiled, walking rapidly across the cliffs in the direction of the house. She vanished from the range of his vision almost immediately, but a few minutes later he heard footsteps and an opening door. He was again confronted by the presence of Thalassa on the threshold. But this time Thalassa did not linger.
This changed attitude, carrying with it a seeming friendliness, the establishment, as it were, of an understanding between them, was not lost upon Mr. Brimsdown. But it had its awkward side for him, by giving added weight to the responsibility of deciding whether he should reveal or withhold his chance encounter with Sisily at Paddington. Till then, Mr.
You did not learn anything from him, but I can tell you my cousin Sisily is innocent." He brought out these words with a breathlessness which may have been the result of his haste. The calmness of the lawyer's reply was in marked contrast. "Is this merely an assertion, Mr. Turold?" "It is more than an assertion. I can prove it to you." Mr. Brimsdown was startled.
"My brother did inform me, a week ago, that I would succeed to his fortune," he added. "That proves that your brother was aware of the illegality of his marriage at that time," said Mr. Brimsdown, with an air of conviction. "Why so?" "Because you could not succeed to the Turrald title if your brother's daughter was legitimate."
Robert Turold was dead, and no longer able to protect his own name. It might be that the facts of his death involved some scandalous secret of the dead man's which was better undivulged, and if so it would remain undivulged, could Mr. Brimsdown contrive it. For the time being he would pursue his investigations and keep his own counsel.
It seemed a long time ago like a glimpse from the face of the dead. Mr. Brimsdown strove to put the idea from him as a trick of the imagination. He beckoned to a porter, who took his bag to a first-class carriage in the Penzance train. Mr. Brimsdown settled himself comfortably in a corner seat. A few minutes later the train moved out on the long night journey to Penzance. The clock in Dr.
The sound of the lawyer stirring in the study overhead seemed to rouse him from his immobility. He closed the door, and stood looking up the staircase with the shadow of indecision on his face. Upstairs Mr. Brimsdown made unavailing search among Robert Turold's papers for proofs of his statement about his marriage.
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