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Updated: June 29, 2025
All the shuddering pictures of him rose up before me, the last, that of him standing by the lock gates and suddenly running like a frightened rabbit, with his jaunty soft felt hat squashed shapelessly over his ears. Gedge could not have invented that abominable touch of the squashed hat. I have said that possibly I myself might give Boyce an inkling of the truth.
"Calling me names won't alter the facts, Sir Anthony," said Gedge, with a touch of insolence. "I was there at the time. I saw it." "If that's true," Sir Anthony retorted, "you're an accessory after the fact, and in greater danger of being hanged than ever." He turned to me in his abrupt way. "Now that we've heard this blackguard, shall we hand him over to the police?"
There is something beneath their cold faces that you can't get at. Gedge bitterly upbraided his daughter, both for her desertion of his business and her criminal folly in abandoning it so as to help mend the shattered bodies of fools and knaves who, by joining the forces of militarism, had betrayed the Sacred Cause of the International Solidarity of Labour.
Mrs Shuckleford is really very kind, though she's not a congenial spirit. "Young Gedge and I see plenty of one another: he's joined our shorthand class, and is going in for a little steady work all round. He owes you a lot for befriending him at the time you did, and he's not forgotten it. I promised to send you his love next time I wrote. Harker will be in town next week, which will be jolly.
The last words Reg said to me when he went off were, `Keep your eye on young Gedge, don't forget'; the very last words, and he's reminded me of my promise in every letter since. I've been a cad, I know, not to see more of you; but you mustn't go thinking that you've no friends. If it were only for Reg's sake I'd stick to you.
In the first place Phyllis Gedge isn't dreadful, but a remarkably sweet and modest young woman, and in the second place she won't have anything to do with him." "That's nonsense," she said, bridling. "Why?" "Because " A gesture and a smile completed the sentence. That a common young person should decline to have dealings with her paragon was incredible.
I know that he writes for a filthy weekly paper. Somebody sent me a copy a few days ago. It's rot but not actually poisonous like that he must hear from Gedge. That's the reason, I suppose, he's not in the King's uniform. I've had my eye on him for some time. That's why I've not asked him to the house." I told Sir Anthony of my interview with the young man. He waxed wroth.
I turned on him wrathfully. "What the dickens is that?" "Dr. Cliffe's orders, sir." "When did he order it?" "When I told him what you looked like after interviewing Mister Daniel Gedge. And he said, if you was to look like that again I was to give you this. So I'm giving it to you, sir." There was no arguing with Marigold in front of a thousand people. I swallowed the stuff quickly.
"Did he write you any letter of condolence?" Gedge asked sneeringly. I saw a sudden spasm pass over Sir Anthony's features. But he said in the same tone as before: "I am not going to answer insolent questions." Gedge turned to me with the air of a man giving up argument with a child. "What do you think of it, Major Meredyth?" What could I say?
The mention of Gedge's name cowed Reginald in an instant, and in the sudden revulsion of feeling which ensued he was glad enough to escape from the room before fairly breaking down under a crushing sense of injury, mortification, and helplessness. Gedge was at the door as he went out. "Oh, Cruden," he whispered, "what will become of me now? Wait for me outside at seven o'clock; please do."
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