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Updated: June 28, 2025
Darlington's duties had been growing daily more and more severe. Nothing could be trusted to servants that was not, in some way, defectively done, causing repeated complaints from the boarders. What proved most annoying was the bad cooking, to remedy which Mrs. Darlington strove in vain.
Clarke had left London and gone into the country for a little while, to rest in a small house possessed by Esme Darlington at Hook Green, a fashionable part of Surrey. At, and round about, Hook Green various well-known persons played occasionally at being rural; it suited Mrs. Clarke very well to stay for a time among them under Mr. Darlington's ample and eminently respectable wing.
Tearing aside poor Cato's vest and shirt-front, Raffles placed himself in possession of the treasure from Bar, LeDuc & Co., after which we lay Darlington's unhappy confederate at full length in the porcelain-lined tub, placed a sofa-cushion under his head to mitigate his sufferings, locked him in, and started for the elevator. "Great Heavens, Raffles!" I chattered, as we emerged upon the street.
The buttons returned and delivered the key of Sir Henry Darlington's apartment into the hands of Raffles Holmes. Ten minutes later we sat in room 407 I in a blue funk from sheer nervousness, Raffles Holmes as imperturbable as the rock of Gibraltar from sheer nerve. It was the usual style of hotel room, with bath, pictures, telephone, what-nots, wardrobes, and centre-table.
"It's no use for you to waste words, sir! What I say I mean. I have other rooms in the house very nearly as good, and am willing to take you for something less in consideration of this disappointment. If that will meet your views, well; if not, let us have no more words on the subject." There was a certain something in Mrs. Darlington's tone of voice that Scragg understood to mean a fixed purpose.
"Couldn't wait?" said Cato. "Nope," said Holmes. "He was very much annoyed by the delay, Cato. You see he's on bigger jobs than this puny little affair of Bar, LeDuc's, and your failure to appear on schedule time threw him out. Pearls aren't the only chips in Darlington's game, my boy." "Well I couldn't help it," said Cato. "Bar, LeDuc's messenger didn't get down there until five minutes of six."
Darlington's native conventionality, and made him conscious of the fact that, perhaps almost indiscreetly, he was bandying words with a maid-servant. He put up one hand to his beard, pulled at it, and then said, almost in his usual voice: "Is Mrs. Leith in?" "She's in the garden, sir." "In the garden?" "Yes, sir." "Is is Mr. Leith at home?" "He's just come home, sir, and gone to Mrs.
"I think you were horrid to her," exclaimed Honora, indignantly. "It wouldn't have hurt you to drive her to Mrs. Darlington's." It did not occur to her that her rebuke implied a familiarity at which they had swiftly but imperceptibly arrived. "Oh, yes, it would hurt me," said he. "I'd rather spend a day in jail than drive with Lula in that frame of mind.
He shook his client's hand, held it, shook it again, and could scarcely find words to express his excitement and delight. Even Esme Darlington's usual careful serenity was for the moment obscured by an emotion eminently human, as he spoke into Mrs. Clarke's ear the following words of a ripe wisdom: "Cynthia, my dear, after this do take my advice and live as others live.
I expect her in a moment. Esme Darlington is bringing her." "Mr. Darlington?" "You're surprised?" "Well, I should hardly have expected somehow that I don't know." "I do. But Esme Darlington's more of a man than he seems. And he's thoroughly convinced of Cynthia's innocence. Here they are." There was a stir in the crowd.
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