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Updated: May 29, 2025
"I haven't even got it in the house." She staggered back; and looked up for the first time. "Don't alarm yourself," he went on. "It's sealed up with my seal; and it's safe in my bankers' keeping. I posted it to them myself. You don't stick at a trifle, Mrs. Dethridge. If I had kept it locked up in the house, you might have forced the lock when my back was turned.
No sound was now audible in the room to a person in the passage outside. Would it be well to look in, and make sure that he had only fallen asleep again? She hesitated once more she was still hesitating, when Hester Dethridge appeared from the kitchen. She joined Anne at the top of the stairs looked at her and wrote a line on her slate: "Frightened to go in? Leave it to Me."
Betsy Trotwood, embodied by her, becomes a living reality; while on the other hand she suffused with a sinister horror her stealthy, gliding, uncanny personation of the dumb, half-insane Hester Dethridge. That was the first great success that Mrs. Gilbert gained, under Augustin Daly's management.
Say that I bring him a message from Holchester House, and that I can only deliver it at a personal interview." Hester Dethridge returned to the cottage. Another, and a longer interval elapsed. At the end of the time, Geoffrey himself appeared in the front garden, with the key in his hand. Anne's heart throbbed fast as she saw him unlock the gate, and asked herself what was to follow.
Dethridge by the arm, had dragged her into the room, and had closed the door again. After the two had remained shut up together for more than half an hour, Mrs. Dethridge had come out, as pale as ashes, and had gone up stairs trembling like a person in great terror.
Nothing but the paper on the other side prevented eye or hand from penetrating into the next room. Hester Dethridge got down from the chair, and made signs for a light. Geoffrey took a match from the box. The same strange uncertainty which had already possessed his feet, appeared now to possess his hands. He struck the match too heavily against the sandpaper, and broke it.
"I won't be a moment longer than I can help," he answered, and left her. She secured the gate again, and went back to the cottage. The servant met her at the door, and proposed calling up Hester Dethridge. "We don't know what the master may do while his brother's away," said the girl. "And one more of us isn't one too many, when we are only women in the house." "You are quite right," said Anne.
Hester Dethridge wrote: "I wanted eggs for the kitchen, and a breath of fresh air for myself." "Did Miss Silvester see you?" A negative shake of the head. "Did she take the turning that leads to the railway?" Another negative shake of the head. "She went on, toward the moor?" An affirmative reply. "What did she do when she got to the moor?"
Something had roused the stagnant vitality in the woman it was working in her mind; it was forcing itself outward into her face. The servants at Windygates, in past times, had seen these signs, and had known them for a warning to leave Hester Dethridge to herself. Anne asked her if she had heard what had happened. She bowed her head. "I hope you don't mind being disturbed?"
Had he lied to Sir Patrick? When the next day came would he find reasons of his own for refusing to take her to Holchester House? She went up stairs. At the same moment Hester Dethridge opened her bedroom door to come out. Observing Anne, she closed it again and remained invisible in her room. Once more the inference was not to be mistaken.
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