Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 10, 2025
The panelling is divided, on each wall of the chamber, into seven compartments; the fourth compartment on the outer wall slides back, and gives access to a passage cut through the arch across St. Lawrence Lane and so to the Moot Hall." "There's one man here who knows all this!" whispered Tansley in Brent's ear. "Look at Krevin Crood!" Krevin was smiling.
I take it that by borough authorities you mean, say, Mr. Simon Crood and his fellow Town Trustees? That so?" "Well, perhaps so," admitted the Town Clerk. "Mr. Alderman Crood, to be sure, is Deputy-Mayor. And he and his brother Town Trustees are certainly men of authority." "What do you want?" demanded Brent. The Town Clerk lowered his voice quite unnecessarily in Brent's opinion.
All three men shook their heads. They looked at each other. They looked at Brent. "Ay what?" said Crood. "Just so!" agreed Mallett. "That's precisely where it is," concluded Coppinger. "Exactly!" "More in it than anyone knows of most probably at present, Mr. Brent," observed Crood, with solemn significance. "Time, sir, time! Time, sir, may tell may!"
It was a great place of resort for the townsfolk on summer evenings and on Sundays, but Brent, coming to it in the middle of the afternoon, found it deserted, save for a few nursemaids and children. He went wandering around it and suddenly caught sight of Queenie Crood.
And in the look which she gave him there was something as soft as her eyes, which were those of a shy animal something appealing, pathetic. He glanced hastily at her attire simple, even to plainness and wondered who she was, and what was her exact status in that big house, which seemed to require the services of a staff of domestics. Brent asked for Alderman Crood.
Then Meeking, with a cynical laugh, picked up his papers and went off, and Brent, leaving Tansley talking to the superintendent, who was inclined to be huffy, strolled out of the Moot Hall, and went round to the back, with the idea of seeing for himself the narrow street which Krevin Crood had formally described.
And there, too, was Krevin Crood, and Queenie, and, just behind Mrs. Saumarez, Dr. Wellesley, looking distinctly bored, and his assistant, Dr. Carstairs, a young Scotsman, and near them another medical man, Dr. Barber; and near the witness-box were several men whom Brent knew by sight as townsmen and who were obviously expecting to be called for testimony.
The good old ways, the time-honoured customs would have another lease of life. Once more, Simon Crood had come out on top. But as he was leaving the Moot Hall, Brent felt his arm touched and turned to see Hawthwaite. The superintendent gave him a knowing look. "To-morrow!" he whispered. "Be prepared! All's done; all's ready!"
"Alderman Crood lives by his tannery the far end of the town. Anybody'll show you the place, once you're past the big church." "I'm going that way," remarked Peppermore. "Come with me, Mr. Brent." He led Brent out into St. Lawrence Lane, a narrow thoroughfare at the back of the Moot Hall, and turning a corner, emerged on the market-place, over which the night shadows had now fallen.
I'll lay anything most of the folk you've been to see have promised their support to both candidates." "Why should these people support Crood and his crew?" demanded Brent. "Because Crood and his crew represent the only god they worship!" said Tansley, with a cynical laugh. "Brass! as they call it. All that a Hathelsborough man thinks about is brass money.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking