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Updated: May 27, 2025
It was miserable to hear this from her poor mad lips, though it was no surprise. "In short, my valued friend," pursued Miss Flite, advancing her lips to my ear with an air of equal patronage and mystery, "I must tell you a secret. I have made him my executor. Nominated, constituted, and appointed him. In my will. Ye-es." "Indeed?" said I.
I shall never take advantage of it." The roof rang with a scream from Miss Flite, which still rings in my ears. "Oh, no, Gridley!" she cried as he fell heavily and calmly back from before her. "Not without my blessing. After so many years!" The sun was down, the light had gradually stolen from the roof, and the shadow had crept upward.
As the light goes in, the great eyes in the shutters, darkening, seem to close. Not so the eyes upon the bed. "God save us!" exclaims Mr. Tulkinghorn. "He is dead!" Krook drops the heavy hand he has taken up so suddenly that the arm swings over the bedside. They look at one another for a moment. "Send for some doctor! Call for Miss Flite up the stairs, sir. Here's poison by the bed!
As we stood for a minute, waiting for Mr. Kenge, a curious little old woman, Miss Flite, in a squeezed bonnet, and carrying a reticule, came curtsying and smiling up to us, with an air of great ceremony. "Oh!" said she, "The wards in Jarndyce. Very happy, I am sure, to have the honour.
But his name is Bucket." "Bucket the detective, sir?" "The same man." "The man is known to me, sir," returns the trooper after blowing out a cloud of smoke and squaring his chest, "and the boy is so far correct that he undoubtedly is a rum customer." Mr. George smokes with a profound meaning after this and surveys Miss Flite in silence. "Now, I wish Mr.
As I turned into Symond's Inn, I met little Miss Flite coming out. She had been to make a stately call upon the wards in Jarndyce, as she still called them, and had derived the highest gratification from that ceremony.
But all is changed at the rag and bottle shop; Miss Flite no longer lodges there; it is shut up; and a hard-featured female, much obscured by dust, whose age is a problem, but who is indeed no other than the interesting Judy, is tart and spare in her replies. These sufficing, however, to inform the visitor that Miss Flite and her birds are domiciled with a Mrs.
Woodcourt had been at our house a good deal altogether and had become quite intimate with my guardian. I said so, and added that he seemed to be very clever in his profession we thought and that his kindness and gentleness to Miss Flite were above all praise. "You do him justice!" said Mrs. Woodcourt, pressing my hand. "You define him exactly.
"She will be as well, in a day or two," said Mr. Woodcourt, with an observant smile, "as she ever will be. Have you heard of her good fortune?" "Most extraordinary!" said Miss Flite. "Every Saturday Kenge and Carboy place a paper of shillings in my hand. Always the same number. One for every day in the week. I think that the Lord Chancellor forwards them. Until the judgment I expect is given."
"Diminutive. But ve-ry sagacious! Well, my dear, it's a pretty anecdote. Nothing more. Still I think it charming. Who should follow us down the road from the coach, my dear, but a poor person in a very ungenteel bonnet " "Jenny, if you please, miss," said Charley. "Just so!" Miss Flite acquiesced with the greatest suavity. "Jenny. Ye-es!
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