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Updated: May 29, 2025
Miss Weeks, did you know Algernon Etheridge well enough to tell me if he was as good and irreproachable a man as they all say?" "He was a good man, but he had a dreadfully obstinate streak in his disposition and very set ideas. I have heard that he and the judge used to argue over a point for hours. And he was most always wrong. For instance, he was wrong about Oliver." "Oliver?"
This excerpt she hardly looked at; but the following she studied carefully: "Judge Ostrander has from the first expressed a strong desire that some associate judge should be called upon to preside over the trial of John Scoville for the murder of Algernon Etheridge. But Judge Saunders' sudden illness and Judge Dole's departure for Europe have put an end to these hopes.
When this occurs, when I look up and find her in my path, I shall know that my sin has found me out and that the end is near. O shade of Algernon Etheridge, unforgetting and unforgiving! The woman has appeared! She stood in this room to-day. Verily, years are nothing with God. Added later. I thought I knew what awaited me if my hour ever came.
Etheridge. If you were asked, I have no doubt you could tell its very colour. Was it the peaked one? the like of which you haven't in your marvelous collection?" "Yes, I could swear to it." And Miss Weeks gave a little laugh, which sounded incongruous enough to Deborah in whose heart at that moment, a leaf was turned upon the past, which left the future hopelessly blank. "Must you go?"
But in Yorkshire this calcareo- arenaceous formation thickens to about 30 feet, and constitutes the lower part of the Middle Oolite, extending inland from Scarborough in a southerly direction. The number of mollusca which it contains is, according to Mr. Etheridge, 143, of which only 34, or 23 1/2 per cent, are common to the Oxford clay proper.
For it was near the end of this path, in full sight of the bridge he must cross, that his friend, Algernon Etheridge, had been set upon and murdered so many years before; and the shadow of this ancient crime still lingered over the spot, deepening its natural gloom even for minds much less sympathetic and responsive to spiritual influences than Judge Ostrander.
The gesture, the way he turned his face aside showed that she had touched the raw of a wound still unhealed. Insensibly, the woman in her responded to this evidence of an undying sorrow, and modulating her voice, she went on, with just a touch of the subtle fascination which made her always listened to: "Your feeling for Mr. Etheridge was well known.
Perhaps some purely physical cause lay back of this; perhaps the nervous irritation incident upon a decision then pending in regard to Oliver's future, heightened my feelings and made me less reasonable than usual. The cause does not matter, the result does. For the first time in our long acquaintance, I let Algernon Etheridge leave me, without any attempt at conciliation.
I had a dozen from the doctor at Georgetown on the Etheridge River. He is a man who knows all about fever, and I can assure you that you will be a well man in ten days. Show me your hand, please." The European extended his hand languidly to the Chinaman, who looked at the finger-nails for a moment or two: "You will have the 'shakes' in a few hours." "Yes.
Yours always, G. Etheridge Hayward. "What damned rot!" said Philip, when he finished the letter. Miss Wilkinson oddly enough had suggested that they should read Romeo and Juliet together; but Philip had firmly declined. Then, as he put the letter in his pocket, he felt a queer little pang of bitterness because reality seemed so different from the ideal. A few days later Philip went to London.
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