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Updated: May 25, 2025
Latch learnt that he was there her face darkened, and the noise she then made about the range with her saucepans was alarming. Mrs. Barfield shared her cook's horror of the pantry, and often spoke of Mr. Leopold as "that little man." Although outwardly the family butler, he had never ceased to be the Gaffer's private servant; he represented the old days of bachelorhood. Mrs. Barfield and Mrs.
'He'll come back, I suppose? murmured Lightwood. 'Ay! and go through with it, murmured Eugene. He came back after a very short interval indeed. 'Gaffer's out, and his boat's out. His daughter's at home, sitting a-looking at the fire. But there's some supper getting ready, so Gaffer's expected. I can find what move he's upon, easy enough, presently.
Long Ede lay prone before the threshold, his out-stretched hands almost touching it, his moccasins already covered out of sight by the powdery snow which ran and trickled incessantly trickled between his long, dishevelled locks, and over the back of his gloves, and ran in a thin stream past the Gaffer's feet. They carried him in and laid him on a heap of skins by the fire.
The likelihood that a horse will bolt with one jockey and run straight with another was argued passionately, and illustrated with interesting reminiscences drawn from that remote past when Mr. Leopold was the Gaffer's private servant before either of them had married when life was composed entirely of horse-racing and prize-fighting.
Not showing himself much impressed by this remarkable confirmation of the informer's evidence, Lightwood inquired what other business they had there? 'I wished you to see the Fellowships for yourself, Lawyer Lightwood, that you might judge whether I'm a liar; and now I'll see Gaffer's window for myself, that we may know whether he's at home. With that, he crept away.
"Fulford Sir John Fulford," said Ambrose. "What? I thought not of it, is not that Gaffer's name?" "Fulford, yea! Mayhap " and Perronel sat down and gave an odd sort of laugh of agitation "mayhap 'tis mine own father." "Shouldst thou know him, good aunt?" cried Ambrose, much excited. "Scarce," she said.
'Indeed, I didn't know you were thought so bad of as that, said she simply. 'What! don't my uncle complain to you of me? You are a favourite of that handsome, nice old gaffer's, I know. 'Never. 'Well, what do we think of our nice trumpet-major, hey? Anne closed her mouth up tight, built it up, in fact, to show that no answer was coming to that question.
A well-made comely girl leaned up against the chimney close to the gaffer's chair, and seemed to be in waiting on the company: she was clad in a close-fitting gown of bright blue cloth, with a broad silver girdle daintily wrought, round her loins, a rose wreath was on her head and her hair hung down unbound; the gaffer grumbled a few words to her from time to time, so that I judged he was her grandfather.
It appeared as if he had scarcely had a moment's time to touch the rope or look over the stern, when he came scrambling back, as pale as the morning, and gasped out: 'By the Lord, he's done me! 'What do you mean? they all demanded. He pointed behind him at the boat, and gasped to that degree that he dropped upon the stones to get his breath. 'Gaffer's done me. It's Gaffer!
"To tell the truth, I didn't know much about them when I came, but then one never hears anything else here. And that reminds me it is as much as your place is worth to breathe one syllable about them horses; you must know nothing when you are asked. That's what Jim Story got sacked for saying in the 'Red Lion' that Valentine pulled up lame. We don't know how it came to the Gaffer's ears.
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