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Updated: May 25, 2025
"There never was such a Dame Durden," said my guardian, "for making money last." He had laid down his pen and leaned back in his chair looking at me. I have often spoken of his bright face, but I thought I had never seen it look so bright and good. There was a high happiness upon it which made me think, "He has been doing some great kindness this morning."
Bott, positively identified the violin as that of her husband, clasping it to her bosom like a long-lost child. This was enough for Durden, who gave the instrument back to Flechter and caused his arrest as he was passing out of the front gate. The insulted dealer stormed and raged, but the Car of Juggernaut had started upon its course, and that night Flechter was lodged in the city prison.
"I don't think there's any harm in that, Dame Durden," said Ada, looking so confidingly at me across him; "because if it will do as well as anything else, it will do very well, I hope." "Oh, yes, I hope so," returned Richard, carelessly tossing his hair from his forehead. "After all, it may be only a kind of probation till our suit is I forgot though. I am not to mention the suit.
On May 21st she wrote to Flechter, who had lost all track of her, that her husband had died, that she had moved to 306 River Street, Hoboken, and that she thought seriously of going back to Germany. Two days later Flechter wrote the following letter to the Central Office man, who had given his name as Southan, an employe of the alleged Mr. Wright: MR. SOUTHAN, care of H. P. Durden.
"I want the King of the Peak," replied the new comer. "I am Sir George Vernon." "Then," replied the other, "I deliver into thine hand this summons, which cites thee to appear at Westminster to answer the charge of slaying Mary Durden."
After breakfast I waited my opportunity and peeped about a little until I saw my guardian in his own room the room of last night by himself. Then I made an excuse to go in with my housekeeping keys, shutting the door after me. "Well, Dame Durden?" said my guardian; the post had brought him several letters, and he was writing. "You want money?" "No, indeed, I have plenty in hand."
In the rear is a safe where the more valuable instruments are kept; in the front sits Flechter himself, a stoutish man of middle height, with white hair and mustache. But on June 23, 1895, Flechter was out when Durden and Baird called, and only his clerk and office-boy were on hand. Durden wished, he said, to see the genuine Strad. about which Mr. Flechter had written him.
"I hear that the old hag, Durden, had a quarrel with the pedlar the day before his death," answered Stanley, "and she told him to his face that he would come to no gentle end." "They have often quarrelled," added Margaret, who felt bound to add something to her lover's statement. "Yes, then," said Sir George, "I have it now. I guessed it was her from the very beginning."
Mark Clark, with additional criticism of Gabriel's countenance, the latter person jerking out, with the ghastly grimace required by the instrument, the chorus of "Dame Durden:" 'Twas Moll' and Bet', and Doll' and Kate', And Dor'-othy Drag'-gle Tail'. "I hope you don't mind that young man's bad manners in naming your features?" whispered Joseph to Gabriel. "Not at all," said Mr. Oak.
So I left Charley in the little passage, and going on to the half-open door, said, "Can I come in, Richard? It's only Dame Durden." He was writing at a table, with a great confusion of clothes, tin cases, books, boots, brushes, and portmanteaus strewn all about the floor.
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