Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 18, 2025
I feel oppressed, like." Pratt opened a window which looked out on the street. He glanced at the old man for a moment and saw that his face, always pallid, was even paler than usual. "You've been talking too much," he said. "Rest yourself, Mr. Bartle, while I ring up Mr. Eldrick's house. If he isn't there, I'll try his club he often turns in there for an hour before going home."
All that was surmise but Eldrick & Pascoe which term included Linford Pratt knew all about Antony Bartle, being his solicitors: his will was safely deposited in their keeping, and Pratt had been one of the attesting witnesses. The old man, having slowly walked into the outer office, leaned against a table, panting a little. Pratt hastened to open an inner door. "Come into Mr. Eldrick's room, Mr.
"I laid 'em all there, on the clothes-press, just as they were taken off of him, by Lawyer Eldrick's orders he said they hadn't been examined, and wasn't to be, till you came. Nobody whatever's touched 'em since." Collingwood went upstairs and into the little room a sort of box-room opening out of that in which the old man lay. There were the clothes; he went through the pockets of every garment.
He became slightly anxious and uneasy. He knew that Collingwood must have made some slight examination of old Bartle's papers. Was it could it be possible that the old man, before going to Eldrick's, had left some memorandum of his discovery in his desk or in a diary?
Was he honest? Was his word to be trusted? Had he told the precise truth about the old man's death? He was evidently a suave, polite, obliging sort of fellow, this clerk, but it was a curious thing that if Antony Bartle had that paper, whatever it was in his pocket when he went to Eldrick's office it should not be in his pocket still if his clothing had really remained untouched.
As quietly and composedly as if he were discharging the most ordinary of his daily duties, Pratt unfolded the document, and went close to the solitary gas jet above Eldrick's desk. What he held in his hand was a half-sheet of ruled foolscap paper, closely covered with writing, which he at once recognized as that of the late John Mallathorpe. He was familiar with that writing he had often seen it.
For a few minutes she walked in the direction of Robson's offices, but when she had nearly reached them, she turned, and went deliberately to those of Eldrick & Pascoe. By the time she had been admitted to Eldrick's private room, Nesta had regained her composure; she had also had time to think, and her present action was the result of at any rate a part of her thoughts.
You shall have your wages just the same, of course, and you may look in every day to see if there's anything you can do. You were here yesterday, of course? Were you in the shop when Mr. Bartle went out?" "Yes, sir," replied the lad. "I'd been in with him all the afternoon. I was here when he went out and here when they came to say he'd died at Mr. Eldrick's."
"I want us to have a consultation with a friend of mine, a barrister, Mr. Collingwood. For this matter is assuming a very queer aspect, and we can't move too warily, nor consider all the features too thoroughly." Collingwood listened with deep interest to Eldrick's account of the morning's events.
Robson, the Mallathorpe family solicitor, a bustling, rather rough-and-ready type of man, who came into Eldrick's room looking not only angry but astonished. He nodded to Collingwood, and flung himself into a chair at the side of Eldrick's desk. "Look here, Eldrick!" he exclaimed. "What on earth has that clerk of yours, Pratt, got to do with Mrs. Mallathorpe? Do you know what Mrs.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking