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Updated: June 17, 2025


"As to that," replied Eldrick, "there are some people in this world whom other people never could know well that's to say, really well. I know Pratt well enough for what he was our clerk. Privately, I know little about him. He's clever he's ability he's a chap who reads a good deal he's got ambitions. And I should say he is a bit subtle." "Deceitful?" she asked.

Already suspicion was in Collingwood's mind vague and indefinable, but there. He was half inclined to go straight back to Eldrick & Pascoe's and tell Eldrick what Jabey Naylor had just told him. But he reflected that while Naylor went out to post the letter, the old bookseller might have put the paper elsewhere; locked it up in his safe, perhaps.

But both nose and eyes combined somehow to communicate an idea of profound inquiry as the round face in which they were placed turned from the solicitor to the man from London, and a podgy forefinger was lifted to a red forehead. "Servant, gentlemen," said the visitor. "Fine morning for the time of year!" "Take a chair, Mr. Pickard," replied Eldrick.

"You've had Prydale here and you'd Eldrick this morning. Of course, you knew what to say to both?" "I wish we'd never had you here last night, young man!" exclaimed Mrs. Murgatroyd fiercely. "What right have you to come here, making trouble for folk that's got plenty already? But at any rate, ours was honest trouble. Yours is like to land my husband in dishonesty if it hasn't done so already!

"Do you advise anything?" asked Nesta. "Well, you know, Miss Mallathorpe," replied Eldrick, smiling. "I'm not your legal adviser. What about Mr. Robson?" "Mr. Robson is so very angry about all this with my mother," said Nesta, "that I don't even want to ask his advice. What I really do want is the advice, counsel, of somebody perhaps more as a friend than as a solicitor."

"The truth is, I'm making some inquiry myself about Pratt and I don't want this to interfere with it. You keep me informed of what you find out, and I'll help you all I can while you're here. It may be " A clerk came into the room and looked at his master. "Mr. George Pickard, of the Green Man at Whitcliffe, sir," he said. "Well?" asked Eldrick.

And a stray sovereign or half-sovereign is useful to a man who only gets two quid a week. Understand?" "So you're a thief?" said Pratt bitterly. "I'm precisely what you are a thief!" retorted Parrawhite. "You stole John Mallathorpe's will last night. I heard everything, I tell you! and saw everything. I heard the whole business what the old man said what you, later, said to Eldrick.

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.

Eldrick," he said, leaning close to the solicitor, "between ourselves, do you know what I'm going to do next which means at once?" "No," replied Eldrick. "The police!" whispered Byner. "That's my next move. Just now! Within a few minutes.

"I might come in a few months' time, and try things for a year or two," replied Collingwood. "But I'm off to India, you know, next week, and I shall be away until the end of spring four months or so." "To India!" exclaimed Eldrick. "What are you going to do there?"

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