Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: May 11, 2025
They soon put the delivery sheet of that particular morning before me. And there it all was " "And it was delivered to and received by who?" broke in Allerdyke eagerly. "Who, man?" "Signed for by Mary Marlow for Franklin Fullaway," answered Chettle in the same low tones. "Delivered here about half-past twelve. So there you are! That is if you know where we are!"
In 1592, while still a mere actor and fitter of old plays for the stage, a fellow-playwright, Chettle, answered Greene's attack on him in words of honest affection: "Myself have seen his demeanour no less civil than he excellent in the quality he professes: besides, divers of worship have reported his uprightness of dealing, which argues his honesty, and his facetious grace in writing, that approves his art."
But, as Chettle sagely remarked, you never can tell, and you never can account, and you never know, and meanwhile there was the urgent business on hand. The business on hand came to nothing. Manager and manageress watched with interested amazement while the two searchers went through everything in that room with a thoroughness and rapidity produced by long practice.
It asked, in the usual formal language, for any information about a young man, dark, presumably a foreigner, who, about the middle of March, was in the habit of taking two pug dogs, generally bedecked with blue ribbons, into Kensington Gardens. "There ought to be some response to that, you know, Mr. Allerdyke," remarked Chettle. "Somebody must remember and know something about that young fellow.
"It's all right," answered Chettle. "I've told no more than was necessary just what we agreed upon. To tell you the truth, our folks don't attach such tremendous importance to it they will, of course, when you tell them your story about the photo. Just at present they merely see the obvious fact that Lydenberg was furnished with the photo as a means of ready identification of your brother.
Allerdyke gave one glance at the card a plain bit of pasteboard on which one word had been hastily pencilled Chettle! whom he had left only that morning in Hull, two hundred miles away, both of them agreed that the next step was still unseen, and that immediate action was yet problematical. Something had surely happened to bring Chettle up to town and to him. "Show Mr.
No at this moment they're full of the Perrigo woman's story they think that's a sure clue a good beginning. Somebody, they say, must own, or have owned, those pugs! Therefore they're going strong on that. Meanwhile, I'm going back to Hull for at any rate a few days." "You've still got that watch on you?" asked Allerdyke. "Certainly," answered Chettle, clapping his hand to his breast-pocket.
You say your folks at the Yard are going to follow up that Perrigo woman's clue? They think it important, then?" "In the case of the Frenchwoman, yes," answered Chettle. He thrust his hand into a side-pocket and brought out a crumpled paper. "Here's a proof of the bill they're getting out," he said. "They set to work on that as soon as they'd got the information.
"A good hour to spare yet," replied Chettle. Allerdyke locked the door of the sitting-room when they were once inside it, and that done he placed a decanter, a syphon, and a glass on his table, and flanked them with a box of cigars. He waved a hospitable hand towards these comforts. "Sit down and help yourself, Chettle," he said.
Malone, Dyce, Steevens, Collier, Halliwell-Phillipps, Knight, Sir Sidney Lee, Messrs. Gosse and Garnett, and Mr. J. C. Collins say that he is Will Shakspere. But Mr. Fleay and Mr. For Chettle says that in the Groatsworth of Wit "a letter, written to divers play-makers, is offensively by one or two of them taken." The mysterious one is, therefore, one of the playwrights addressed by Greene.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking