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Updated: May 11, 2025
Chettle speaks of it, saying, "in which a letter, written to divers play-makers, is offensively by one or two of them taken." We do not know who "the Gentlemen his Quondam acquaintance," addressed by Greene, were. They are usually supposed to have been Marlowe, Peele, and Lodge, or Nash. We do not know which of the two who take offence is the man with whom Chettle did not care to be acquainted.
"Bless you, there's score of foreigners knocking about Hull. Scores! Hundreds! We've done all we can, the local police and myself we've no clue whatever. But, of course, it was done by one of the gang." "By one of the gang!" exclaimed Allerdyke. "Ah you've got a theory of your own, then?" Chettle laughed quietly as they turned and retraced their steps up the street.
Allerdyke's sense of duty arose in strong protest against this very palpable suggestion. He shook his head. "No no!" he said. "That won't do, Chettle. You must do your duty to your superiors. You'll find that you'll be all right. If the police solve this affair, that reward'll go to the police, and you'll get your proper share. No no underhand work. You make your report in your ordinary way.
"Hum!" said he, "it is a very pretty, filial letter, and increases my interest in you; give me your hand: there. Well, it won't do: too shaky. If your mother once sees this, I may talk till doomsday, she'll not believe a word. You must put off writing till to-morrow night. Now give me her address, for I really must get home." "She lives on the second floor, No. 13 Chettle Street." "Her name?"
Look here!" Chettle opened a square cardboard box in which certain personal effects belonging to Lydenberg had been placed one or two rings, a pocket-knife, his purse and its contents, a cigar-case, his watch and chain. He took up the watch, detached it from the chain, and held it towards Allerdyke, who was regarding these proceedings with intense curiosity. "You see this watch, Mr.
Just as he poisoned the Frenchwoman when he'd done with her. Mr. Allerdyke, I'm more than ever convinced that these two murders Lydenberg's and the French maid's were the work of one hand." "Likely!" assented Allerdyke. "It's getting to look like it. But whose? That's the problem, Chettle. Well, I've done a bit since I got back this afternoon.
There was nothing of the monopolist about Mabel, and she lost no time in making Undine free of the Stentorian group and its affiliated branches: a society addicted to "days," and linked together by membership in countless clubs, mundane, cultural or "earnest." Chettle stands for."
So, he'd probably have the third print of it the one we've just been looking at on him when he was in London at that time?" "Very likely," assented Allerdyke. "Then," said Chettle with great eagerness, "try, Mr. Allerdyke, try your best and cleverest to find out if he gave it to Fullaway. You can think you with a sharp brain! of some cunning fashion of finding that out. What?"
A curious little sidelight upon the battle is afforded by the two following letters exhibited to the Royal Archaeological Institute by the Rev. C. W. Bingham. 'To Mrs. Chaffin at Chettle House. 'Monday, about ye forenoon, July 6, 1685.
"Well?" said Allerdyke. "And what then!" "Why, it'll probably upset the whole bag of tricks!" exclaimed Chettle. "The thing'll be spoiled before we've properly worked it out. See?" Allerdyke did see. He had sufficient knowledge of police matters to know that Chettle was right, and that a too hasty step would probably ruin everything. He turned towards the warehouse. "Just so," he said.
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