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Updated: May 16, 2025
But they're a shocking set of muffs in these parts. You don't live here?" "No; I am down on a visit to my cousin, Lady Emberdale. She lives at Crooklands Mead. I've come down a day sooner than I was expected, and the train was two hours late. I'm Reginald Carey." He stopped before the step of the car. "It's very good of you, but I won't take you out of your way on such a beastly night.
When he saw her again, nearly an hour later, Geoffrey Coningsby was dead. It was on a day of frosty sunshine, nearly a fortnight later, that Carey dismounted before the door of Crooklands Manor, and asked for its mistress. He was shown at once into the library, where he found her seated before a great oak bureau with a litter of papers all around her. She flushed deeply as she rose to greet him.
"Where are you bound for? Come along with me in the car; I'll take you where you want to go." He seized Carey by the shoulder, impelling him with boisterous cordiality towards the vehicle. "Jump in, my friend. My name is Coningsby Major Coningsby, of Crooklands Manor mad Coningsby I'm called about here, because I happen to ride straighter to hounds than most of 'em. A bit of a compliment, eh?
"No doubt Gwen has told you our piece of news?" she said. He held out his hand. "It is official, is it? I am very glad. I wish you joy with all my heart." She accepted his congratulations with a gracious smile. "I think everyone is pleased, including those absurd children. By the way, here is a note just come for you, brought by a groom from Crooklands Manor.
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