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Updated: May 8, 2025
We had identified the unhappy woman whom I had met in the night-time with Anne Catherick we had made some advance, at least, towards connecting the probably defective condition of the poor creature's intellect with the peculiarity of her being dressed all in white, and with the continuance, in her maturer years, of her childish gratitude towards Mrs.
Catherick's dog!" "Whose?" I asked, in the utmost astonishment. "Mrs. Catherick's. You seem to know Mrs. Catherick, Miss Halcombe?" "Not personally, but I have heard of her. Does she live here? Has she had any news of her daughter?" "No, Miss Halcombe, she came here to ask for news." "When?" "Only yesterday.
Clements left me in no doubt whatever on that point. Mrs. Catherick had, on the clearest evidence, compromised her reputation, while a single woman, with some person unknown, and had married to save her character. It had been positively ascertained, by calculations of time and place into which I need not enter particularly, that the daughter who bore her husband's name was not her husband's child.
He noticed his visitor's agitation, which Miss Halcombe accounted for by saying that her interview with Anne Catherick had a little startled her at first. She took her leave as soon after as possible that is to say, as soon as she could summon courage to force herself from the presence of her unfortunate sister.
The nurse led Miss Halcombe to a distant part of the property, which was prettily laid out, and after looking about her a little, turned into a turf walk, shaded by a shrubbery on either side. About half-way down this walk two women were slowly approaching. The nurse pointed to them and said, "There is Anne Catherick, ma'am, with the attendant who waits on her.
'I'll let all England know I'm in want, she said, 'before I tell Catherick, or any friend of Catherick's. Take that for your answer, and give it to HIM for an answer, if he ever writes again." "Do you suppose that she had money of her own?" "Very little, if any, sir. It was said, and said truly, I am afraid, that her means of living came privately from Sir Percival Glyde."
Her statement that she was Lady Glyde was held to be proof of the unsoundness of her mind. Unfortunately for the count's plans, the real Anne Catherick died the day before the incarceration of Lady Glyde, but, as there was no one to prove the dates of these events, both Fosco and Sir Percival regarded themselves as secure.
Even in that moment, I began to doubt whether the clue that I thought I had found was really leading me to the central mystery of the labyrinth after all. Was this common, too common, story of a man's treachery and a woman's frailty the key to a secret which had been the lifelong terror of Sir Percival Glyde? "Well, sir, Catherick took my husband's advice and waited," Mrs. Clements continued.
Catherick should take up with a chance stranger like Sir Percival Glyde. 'Ay, but is he a stranger to her? says my husband. 'You forget how Catherick's wife came to marry him. She went to him of her own accord, after saying No over and over again when he asked her.
I opened the letter. It was neither dated nor signed, and the handwriting was palpably disguised. Before I had read the first sentence, however, I knew who my correspondent was Mrs. Catherick. The letter ran as follows I copy it exactly, word for word: SIR, You have not come back, as you said you would. No matter I know the news, and I write to tell you so.
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