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They did what they could, eking out their scanty earnings by eel-fishing on the marshes, and occasionally snaring a few wild fowl. Mr. Glenthorpe's researches in the district had been a godsend because of the employment he had given, which had brought a little ready money into the place. It was obvious to Colwyn's alert intelligence that the innkeeper did not care to talk about his dead guest.
Later on Charles served it in the bar parlour, and waited with his black eyes fixed on Colwyn's lips, sometimes anticipating his orders before they were uttered. He brought a bottle of claret from the inn cellar, assuring Colwyn in his soft whisper that he would find the wine excellent, and Colwyn, after sampling it, found no reason for disagreeing with the waiter's judgment.
She laid her hand on his knee and kept it there while she told him of her experiences that evening at Brand Hall. Mr. Colwyn's eyebrows went up as he listened. His face expressed astonishment, and something very like perplexity. But he heard the whole story out before he said a word. "Well, you have put your head into the lion's den!" he said at last, in a half-humorous tone.
Cromering to beguile the long walk in the dark from Heathfield Station by discussing Colwyn's theory that Benson had circulated the reappearance of the White Lady of the Shrieking Pit in order to keep the villagers away from the place where the stolen money was hidden. Mr.
Colwyn, that her friend at Worthing would be glad of Miss Colwyn's services after the holidays." "I am much obliged to your ladyship," said Mr. Colwyn, with grave formality. "I am not sure that I shall let my daughter go." "Won't you? Oh, but she ought to have all possible advantages! And can you tell me, Mr.
"Who was it, this time?" she asked of her second daughter Georgie, who was standing at the window the mother and her girls being assembled in Mrs. Colwyn's bedroom, her favorite resort on cold afternoons. Georgie gave a little giggle her manners were not perfect, in spite of a term at Mrs. Smith's superior seminary for young ladies and answered, under her breath "It was Mr. Cuthbert Brand."
Colwyn's bridlings and tossings, was nervous and flurried, sat on the edge of a chair, and looked poor, helpless, elderly woman as if she had never entered a drawing-room before. The only comfort Janetta had out of the visit was a moment's conversation in the hall when Mrs. Brand took her leave. "My dear my dear," said Mrs.
Colwyn was fond of stilted expressions, and the thought of "a tributary tear" seemed so incongruous to Janetta when compared with her own deep grief, that much to Mrs. Colwyn's horror she burst into an agitated little laugh, as nervous people sometimes do on the most solemn occasions. "To laugh when your father is lying dead in the house!" ejaculated Mrs. Colwyn, with awful emphasis.
As Colwyn looked in his direction their eyes met, and the portly gentleman nodded portentously in the direction of the alcove table, as an indication that he also had been watching the curious behaviour of the occupant. A moment afterwards he got up and walked across to the pillar against which Colwyn's table was placed. "Will you permit me to take a seat at your table?" he remarked urbanely.
"You think that I was to blame?" "I think that you acted on impulse, without much consideration for Miss Colwyn's future. I think that you have done her an injury which I am sure you will be only too willing to repair." He began rather sternly, he ended almost tenderly moved as he could not fail to be by the soft reproach of Margaret's eyes.
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